


Waiting for a Friend

by twitch



Series: Long Distance [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Some Families Just Aren't, Ben and Hux are the Same Age, Bullying, But Some Parents Do Try, Childhood Friends, Childhood Injuries, Childhood depression, Gen, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, Minor Injuries, On Account of Kids Not Knowing What They're Doing, Original Character(s), POV Ben Solo, Reunions, School, School Yard Fight, Summer Vacation, a bit of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: Ben was just a five year old without a care in the world, living with simple pleasures. Until he meets the boy who moves into the house behind his. He sees him one night, over the expanse of the two back yards, seeing him in his bedroom.Ben wagged his hand back and forth.Grinned when he saw the boy wave his hand a few seconds later.





	1. Broken Fences

**Author's Note:**

> Can it be considered a modern setting when the first chapter begins in the early '90s? 
> 
> This idea came to me a month ago and while the first chapter describes Ben and Hux as friends the following chapters will focus primarily on Ben as he gets older.
> 
> Big thank you to kyluxtrashcompactor for being a patient beta for me. <3

The sun was misleading. It was a bright day, the reason that he wanted to come outside, but he hadn’t lasted half a minute before the breeze rattled at the tree branches and his bare arms. He spun around, arms quivering, smiling when he saw his dad waving his sweater for him from inside the house, the other side of the back door.

Once he wiggled his way into the sweater, his dad purposely leaving the hood tugged too far forward over his head, followed by a two-handed rubdown into his hood, Ben raced back outside.

He first hopped onto the swing, launching himself so he was flat on the seat, soaring up, not as high as the blue sky. Not even as high as the branches still trembling from the breeze. But with the rush backwards, digging his toes into the soft ground, he bent his knees and pushed harder.

A little bit higher. High enough to the see the bare second-floor windows of the house behind them. His mum and dad never had any need to drive along the road, their court entirely separate from that street, but their neighbours always wondered why the house was still up for sale all these months later. It was a good price for a nice lot – not that he had ever seen cars parked in the back yard when he looked out his bedroom window. 

Inching his hands up the chains he pulled himself up, tucking his feet under so he was standing on the seat, twisting and bending to keep the swing moving. A little bit taller in this position he watched the house, more of it coming into view. It looked like an okay house, from the outside. Smaller than theirs. Sometimes his felt too big, during the weeks when his mom could be gone for four days, weekends included. 

Maybe he should’ve gone to the park with Poe. The park had the slide, the seesaw and the monkey-bars, which were more fun than just a set of swings and a sandbox he hadn’t used in over a year. But he knew his dad’s routine. When it was just the two of them he preferred him to stay close to home. Play in the street or the yard. 

Huffing, Ben plopped down, bum into the seat, letting the swing slow down until he was toeing the dirt with his runners.

Mom said she would be back home on Monday.

Maybe then he could go to the park with Poe. If Poe didn’t have homework.

*

Monday came, and so did mom, arriving a little after he got home from school. He’d been going through his books, deciding on which one he wanted to take to school, when he heard the door open and her voice call out a warm hello.

“Mom!” Books sliding off his bed, he ran downstairs, straight into her legs, hugging them before he was lifted up into her arms. Ben threw his arms over her, hands scrabbling for her neck in another hug. “Hi mom!” 

She kissed his forehead but glanced away quickly, eyes to the top of the staircase. “What was the noise up there?”

“Miss Lang wants us to bring our favourite book to school. I was choosing!” Ben wiggled in her arms, making himself comfortable. “Can you help me? I have four.”

With a push of her foot she moved her suitcase out of the way, returning to the stairs. “Of course, sweetheart. And I can read one of the other books to you tonight.”

“Yeah! You do better voices than dad.”

In his bedroom, sorting through his books, he told her all about the weekend, including the extra saucy spaghetti they ate and how much dad managed to spill on himself, but he washed the clothes yesterday so she wouldn’t find out. And the placemats. They got messy too. 

Hearing her laugh he knew that it was good that he told her his and dad’s secret. Even if dad groaned over dinner that night.

Still he smiled. 

Mom and dad both looked happy.

By the end of the week they didn’t sound happy. The only good thing was they weren’t yelling. Mom was using her disappointed voice while dad used his faster voice, or at least tried to, until she cut him off. They were in the family room, which made it easy to sneak through the kitchen to the backdoor. 

He knew better than to interrupt. Even if Poe wanted to go to the park. He would try later but for now he was going outside. 

Putting his whole weight into the movement, he managed to push the door shut. He had his sweater on but today he was too warm. Spring was so silly. Wiggling his way out he put his sweater on the patio chair. After he had played on the swing last weekend he helped dad put the patio furniture out. Dad put them all into position after he decided where they should go.

He looked around the yard before sighing. He did it again, trying to match the sound mom made. He kicked the baseball he and his dad had played catch with yesterday. Now he had no one to throw it with. 

Swing it was then.

Seated and kicking his feet but going nowhere, he stared at the grass. Wondered if he could make the grass move if he kicked hard enough. 

A minute later with tired legs and no result he looked up. To the tree in the corner, leaves starting to show on the branches. Higher to the sky, waiting for a cloud to slowly pass so he could see the sun. When he could finally see the whole sun he turned to watch the cloud drift over the roof of the house behind theirs.

Eyes wide, Ben raced to the house. Tugged and tugged on the backdoor until it slid open loudly. Didn’t bother to close it while running for the stairs.

“Ben! No running in the house!”

“There are curtains!” He yelled to his dad, feet loud on the stairs. “The house behind us has curtains!”

His bedroom door open, he ran in, leaping onto his bed, head peeking out between his curtains. His parents had to hear the noise now that they were coming up to join him. His mom pulled the curtain back more as they all looked to the house behind them. 

“Huh.” His dad mumbled behind him, seeing the second floor windows, white curtains pulled tight. From their view on the second floor they could see blinds across the back door and more curtains. They could see a comfortable looking chair from the one window on the main floor. “Someone finally moved in.”

“Do you see anyone?” Even on his toes on the bed he didn’t have a perfect view.

“Not right now,” his mom said after a few seconds. “We can go for a walk later, go to their street to take a better look.”

Ben closed the curtains, hopeful as he looked to both his parents in turn. “After dinner?”

“Sure kid!” His dad ruffled his hair, scratching enough to tickle, making him giggle. “We can even go to the park.”

Their walk didn’t show much though. They didn’t know anyone on that street so the walk was short, finding the house easily enough. The driveway was empty (“Who would’ve thought? A car in a garage!” Mom joked, their own garage filled with his dad’s tools and a workbench and yard-work tools that didn’t get used frequently enough, aside from the lawnmower) but the house already looked settled in. The one room they could see in from the front had a couch blocking part of the window. There was no movement in the room. More importantly the “For Sale” sign had been removed, the post missing too. 

They continued to the park, staying for half an hour before it started getting too dark.

Sunday found Ben in his bedroom, wishing he could be outside, but the rain was keeping him inside. He read a book and remained on his bed, feet up in the air as he laid on stomach, but boredom had settled in. None of his toys looked appealing. He kept glancing to the storm, the raindrops streaking the window. 

Stretching up into a kneeling position he moved closer to the window. Pushed his fingers to the glass, tracing the rapid fall of the rain. It was dark outside, not night dark, but the dark grey of angry storm clouds, lit up occasionally by lightning. He watched one zag down in the distance, overtop the forest that their end of the court edged.

Gaze shifting, somewhere between his finger and the lightning, he saw something move into the window opposite his. He could see it because the curtains were pulled back. He pushed his hand flat to the window when he leaned in, his breath fogging up the glass.

Peering intently he saw a figure, maybe his own height, startle and look his way. At the distance of two back yards away he couldn’t tell much but it looked like a boy. Short hair lighter than his own. 

Ben wagged his hand back and forth.

Grinned when he saw the boy wave his hand a few seconds later.

* * *

The rain stopped at some point overnight. The following day wasn’t especially warm or sunny but that didn’t stop him from going outside. More specifically, to wait to see if the other boy would appear in his bedroom. 

He kneeled on his bed again, bright red cardboard paper in hand, eyes fixed to window across from him. Luckily it wasn’t a long wait until he saw movement. Once he was sure it was the same boy he lifted his hands and paper, waving it in hopes to catch his attention.

The boy stopped whatever he was doing, seeing his flailing movements. Ben grinned and shoved the paper flat to the window. Surely he could see the big black arrow he had drawn on it, pointing down. 

The boy cocked his head.

He held the paper in one hand to gesture with the other. Ben wove his hand towards himself several times, then pointed down while shaking his paper arrow with a downwards movement.

The boy tilted his head the other way. Held his head there for a few seconds before straightening and stepping back until he was out of sight of the window.

But he did nod his head. 

Ben dropped his paper on the bed, running down the stairs. Neither of his parents were home to scold him, for the running or wearing his runners in the house. He had them on, and his sweater, while waiting in his room. He didn’t have to stop, able to run out into the back yard. 

Chances were the boy would be putting shoes on so he waited at the back fence, hands flat on the wide wooden posts, fingers barely peeking through. 

When he thought he heard the sound of a door being pushed open, he stuck his hand as far as it would go through the gaps of the fence. “Over here!”

He saw bright blue rain boots, having heard the squelch of steps through soft grass and mud. They moved closer but to his left. “No, this way!” Ben called, wiggling his fingers. 

The boots walked closer but once they were in front of him he looked up, finding blue eyes already fixed on him. Ben lost his voice in breathlessness and an awed look before grinning, not caring that the boy looked confused. “I saw you yesterday,” Ben said when he could speak again.

“You were waving at me.”

His voice sounded different than his own. Not in the way of being higher, like a girl’s, or sounding more deliberate like Poe sometimes did. It sounded like… he almost would sing, a combination of rounded sounds against sharp but soft edges. “I was saying hi because I saw you. You’re new – I had to say hi – and tell you I’m Ben!”

The boy hesitated, glancing backwards before facing him again. “I’m Hux.”

“Huh…” Ben tried the name, thinking he misheard, trying to match it up with the names of boys he knew from school. He didn’t know of that name. “That’s your first name?”

“No.” Hux gave a small smile. “My last name.”

“But…” Ben twisted his lips together, thinking hard. “What does your dad call you?”

The smile grew a little bit more. “Boy.”

“But what’s your first name? Everyone has a first name!” Ben insisted. 

Hux shook his head but the smile remained. “My dad calls me Hux. Or boy.”

Ben thought about it more. Decided that maybe it did make sense. Sometimes his dad called him kid or kiddo. “Okay. But I’m not calling you Boy. I’m calling you Hux.” Then he knew it! “But what does your teacher call you in school?”

Hux’s smile disappeared. Once again he looked back towards his house before looking to him. “A lady comes to my house to teach me. She teaches me reading and writing and numbers. She’s on the phone, but I need to go inside soon.”

Ben frowned, curling his fingers around the fence. “When do you finish?”

“At four.”

“Can you come out and play then?”

“My dad gets home at four and he won’t let me come outside.” 

Ben started to pout but stopped when he knew his mom would be scolding him, if she was home to tell him to stop. “Can you come out and play tomorrow?”

Hux thought, his head tilting. “Yeah. After four. If it doesn’t rain.”

“Great!” Grinning again Ben bounced on his toes, leaning in to try and grab Hux by the arm but his hand couldn’t go any further, even though the fence shifted slightly away from him. “See you!”

Back inside the house, leaving his runners on the kitchen mat in front of the backdoor, Ben yelped excitedly. No one to tell him to be quiet, or to make Hux nervous. It would be perfect!

* * *

Except he hadn’t thought of how to get Hux into the back yard, a problem he discovered the following afternoon.

“We don’t have anything out here.”

“I have swings – and a sandbox.” If Hux wanted to play in the sandbox they could. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case. “Oh! And a baseball. We could play catch.”

“But how do I get into your yard?” They had walked along the length of the fence separating their back yards. Ben knew there was the gate that closed off the back yard from the front yard but that wouldn’t help Hux. 

“You could climb,” Ben suggested.

“Climb?” Hux looked along the fence, gaze narrowed. 

“Climb over the fence?”

“I never climbed a fence before.”

“If you can climb a tree you can climb a fence.” 

“I never climbed a tree.” 

“What?” Ben gaped, then shook his head. “I can grab the ball and climb my tree and jump into your yard.”

“No!” Hux sounded scared. “You will hurt yourself!”

“I jump from trees all the time, never hurt myself.” Already decided on the matter Ben ran back to grab the baseball but stopped when he heard Hux call for him.

“Wait!” Hux’s fingers were around one slat of the wood fence, pulling it towards him. “I remember – when you pushed yesterday, this moved. Can you push it again?” 

Leaning his weight against the piece of fence, body and arms, Ben pushed it towards Hux. It moved more, digging through the grass and dirt, still soft from the storm two days ago. “How is that?” Ben asked, looking down at the grass. 

When Hux pulled again on his side Ben pushed more. Startled with a soft _eep_ when he slipped forward, a considerable gap made between the wood and the rest of the fence, pried back. Hux tried to slip down and across but stopped. “I need to move this a bit more. I need to-” Hux looked at the wood then back to Ben. He caught a glimpse of a pale face around one blue eye. “Push it to your left.” Hux pulled again when he pushed again, but also to his left. Hux’s right. Working together they zigged it to the side, a muddy scar marring the grass.

But in that space Hux was able to step under the piece of wood, twist his body so he could step sideways through the gap. 

He straightened up, coming up a hair shorter than him, his hair bright and sunny. His smile was wider, accomplished, before he breathed in deeply. “Hi, Ben.”

Climbing trees wasn’t the only thing Hux didn’t know how to do. Since he still had the baseball in his hand he suggested playing catch. Ben had to dig around for a second glove for Hux, eventually finding a glove that Poe must’ve forgotten at some point. Ben started by showing him how to throw underhand. By the end of their afternoon time Hux was managing a decent throw, even if Ben had to move around to catch the ball. His aim needed improving but Hux was a good catcher for his good throwing.

He gave Hux his baseball before he slipped back into his back yard, carefully pushing the piece of wood back. From far enough away it looked straight, rather than angled backwards toward Hux’s house. They wouldn’t be able to play until the day after next. His dad came home early from work three days a week. Hux assured him he would practise and be ready for Thursday. 

* * *

“Hey kid, you have more freckles on your face.”

Ben rubbed at his cheek when his dad’s fingers drew away. Glanced up curiously but also a bit warily. “Is that bad?”

“Of course not, it means you’ve been outside playing a lot,” his dad explained once he set his own dinner plate down on the kitchen table. “Maz hasn’t seen you in the front yard – so you’ve been in the back yard?” 

“Yeah.” Ben took his seat, taking a bite of his food and chewing. “Is that okay?”

His dad nodded through his own mouthful. “Everyone needs to get outside. Including your mom, though she wouldn’t know that.”

“I’m just on the swings, or playing catch,” Ben added, putting his fork down when he realised he was holding it tines up and empty. “Am I… can I have friends inside the house?”

“If I’m home, or Mom, of course you can.” He was bringing food to his mouth but paused, one shoulder poised to shrug. “Maybe Maz could be here if we can’t. You’ve got a friend you want to bring over?”

Ben shrugged in turn. “Maybe. He can’t play too long.”

“What’s his name?”

“Hux.” It would be two days until they could play again. Which was too long a wait but not as long as waiting over the weekend. 

“Hux?” His dad looked as confused as he did when he first heard his name. Three weeks later Ben couldn’t imagine calling Hux anything else. “Who calls a kid Hux?”

“His Dad?” 

“Never heard of the name Hux.”

* * *

They sat on the swings, slowly swaying back and forth. Ben still thought about the talk with his dad, even though he hadn’t asked his dad to come home early so Hux could play inside. Something else was on his mind, prompting him to finally look to Hux. “Where are you from?”

Hux stopped swinging his legs, slowing his motions down further but not stopping entirely. “Why?”

“You don’t… sound like me.” Ben knew his words came out funny, huffed and rethought them.. “Your voice is different.”

“I sound like my dad – and my teacher,” Hux explained, sticking his toes down to the ground to stop.

“What about your mom?” Ben asked, stopping and twisting to face Hux.

Hux shook his head. “It’s just the three of us.”

Ben couldn’t help but be curious. “Where did you come from? Before here.” 

“Well.” Hux wrung his hands on the chains. “My dad and I were in New York – and then we met my teacher. And came here – two days before you saw me in my bedroom.”

“I think I’ve heard of New York.” He heard his dad talk about the place but where it was he didn’t know. He would ask his dad if he could show him on a map. “Do all people from New York sound like you?”

Hux smiled, starting to move his legs, setting the swing back into motion. “People from New York – everyone sounds different.”

* * *

As it was, Ben decided that he might get a better answer from his mom about this different sounding New York. He laid on the bed she shared with Dad when she got home. It was a week later, a week when she would come straight home from work. Maybe even for two weeks. Her business trips took her to many places so it could be possible. “Have you been to New York?”

“New York is a very big place,” his mom explained from in front of the dresser, removing her earrings and setting them into her jewellery box. “New York is a state, just like Michigan.”

“Do people from New York sound different from us?” Ben asked, flipping onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows.

He could see his mom almost laugh, her face in the mirror smiling. “Depends on who you’re talking to, and where you are. There are many people in New York.”

“Oh.” It answered his question but he was only more confused, plus he had more questions in mind. “Is New York far away?”

“When I go to New York, I have to take a plane. It can take two hours to fly.” Ben stared down at the blanket, trying to think of anything to compare two hours to. He looked up when his mom turned to face him. “Does this have anything to do with your new friend?”

“Yeah… but I don’t know where in New York he is from,” he admitted, sitting up when his mom came to sit beside him. 

“I’ll get the atlas out and show you where it is.” Her hand was warm on his neck, lips gentle on the top of his head. “That might give you a better idea. And maybe, if he tells you where in New York he’s from, we can look that up too.” 

“I can ask him on Tuesday.” Cheered up a little, confusion soothed by being able to get a better answer, he kissed his mom on her cheek. “Can we look at the at-las now?”

“Of course.”

* * *

He never did ask Hux where from New York he lived. It didn’t seem important when right now he was sitting across from him. They rolled the baseball back and forth until the point Hux flopped down on his back, gaze going up to the sky. 

Ben got up, ambled over to him. Sat back down but rolled onto his side, watching Hux. “Tomorrow is the last day of school.”

Hux twisted his head towards him, smile changing to a pout. “Lucky.”

“Do you finish school?” 

Hux shook his head to look back up. “My teacher comes to our house every day. But not Saturday or Sunday.”

“That sucks.” Ben had been looking forward to taking him to the park. To meet Poe. “But will your dad let you come to the park? It _is_ the summer.”

“Maybe.”

Unfortunately Hux said the word the same way as his mom did, which normally meant no.

“Why doesn’t your dad let you leave the house?” Ben asked, easing onto his back.

A sigh came from his left. Looking out of the corner of his eye he saw Hux looking at him. “I don’t know. All he tells me its not safe but… if he met you, I could tell him he is wrong.”

Ben glanced over to Hux, smiling wide.

The following week, four days into summer vacation, he woke up with a wide smile. Knee stepping his way to the window, the sun already bright in the sky, he watched Hux’s bedroom, curtains drawn tight.

He and Poe went down the park later that day, his mom watching while they played, but he told them that he needed to be home early. If only to wait in the back yard, waiting for Hux to come out. They didn’t need to know that he had been waiting for half an hour.

Ben even liked to think that Hux slipped into his back yard a few minutes early.

“I saw you outside,” Hux said once he was on the swing beside him, hands wrapped around the too warm chains.

“I have an idea.” Ben grinned at the smile creeping over Hux’s face. “What time do you wake up in the morning?”

“Well, I can sleep in a little for the summer,” Hux said, lifting his feet from the ground and settling in on the swing. “Now I get up at eight.”

Ben thought about the numbers that were on his clock when he woke up that morning. “Do you think you can wake up earlier?”

“When?” 

When was a lot better than a maybe. Already surging with confidence he quickly answered. “Seven? Or can you be outside here at seven?”

“In your back yard?” At Ben’s nod Hux nodded back, smile wider. “What are we going to do?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Hux opened his mouth, whether to argue with him or try to guess, Ben wouldn’t let him. “You can find out tomorrow.”

Lips still parted, a sound almost like a giggle on his lips, Hux rocked a little. “So what are we going to do now?” 

Ben wasn’t sure, but happy to do whatever Hux wanted to do. Tomorrow he would choose, hoping Hux was looking forward to it. 

Sneaking out of the house at seven in the morning wasn’t what he usually did. It was the perfect morning to do it though. His mom had left the night before to take a plane to a conference and dad rarely got up before eight o’clock. 

He was in the back yard before seven, and as he asked, Hux slipped through the gap in the fence shortly after.

“Hi,” Hux greeted, coming up to meet him where he sat on the deck. Looked around curiously. “So… what is the surprise?”

“We need to leave the back yard to see it,” Ben said, taking hold of Hux’s wrist, in part to pull himself up but also to show the way to the gate that led to the front yard. He only stopped when he found Hux wasn’t following. He turned to find his eyes wide and staring at him, shock on his face. “Are you okay?”

Pressing his lips together in determination, Hux nodded. “Yeah… you know the way, right?”

“Of course! I go… there all the time.” Smiling and giving another tug Hux took a step after him, stopping at the gate when he had to pull the string to open the lock. His dad and mom normally fixed the lock back into the locked position but to get back into the backyard he would have to leave the gate slightly open.

Hux looked around the court once they were on the walkway that led between Ben’s house and their neighbours. “What street is this?” 

“This is Hart Court,” Ben said, gesturing to the road behind him. 

Hux looked around, taking in the houses, finally turning to face the front of his house. “I’ve never been off our street.”

“Never been to the park?” Ben frowned when Hux shook his head. “Why not?”

“My dad tells me not to.” Hux turned back to face him. “But you know where we are going. He doesn’t like me being alone.”

Ben smiled with a breath that had his chest puffing out. “Come on, I can show you the way!”

One of his favourite things that Ben liked about their house, aside from their back yard being across from Hux’s, was the small forest that started to the left of their back yard. There was a walkway between their house and their neighbour’s, fenced off and paved. A dirt path started when they cleared the back fences of each yard, leading into the woods.

He started running, his hand still around Hux’s wrist, once they were away from the quiet, just waking houses. Hux may have tried to protest but it came out with a startled laugh that Ben echoed. 

The sound followed them along the forest trail, starting and stopping in their run, dodging tree roots when Ben took them off the path.

“Where are we going?” Hux asked when they had stopped again, Ben looking around.

It took him a second to decide if they were in the right spot, shortly tugging Hux to turn right with him. They walked along, pushing bushes aside to find their destination.

“Another friend of mine, Poe – he showed me a place.” To step over a log he let go of Hux but he was close behind. “We are almost there.”

When they stopped again, Ben turned around with outstretched hands, fingers splayed and smile wide. 

Hux looked around, gaze raised and moving in a circle, until he was looking back at Ben. “Trees?”

Ben wasn’t put off by Hux’s lack of excitement. “Poe taught me how to climb trees on these trees.” 

Hux’s eyes widened. “Is… are they safe?”

“I told you! I have never hurt myself climbing a tree, never!” Ben moved closer, taking hold of Hux’s wrist and pulling him out of the centre of the clearing. “This is the smallest tree. It is the first tree I climbed, I can show you how to do it. Since you are the same size as me you can do what I do.”

Hux inched away from the tree, partly to give him space to climb. “Okay.”

“I promise it is safe,” Ben insisted, meeting Hux’s face with a serious look. He turned to face the trunk but twisted back, arm stretching towards Hux. He folded down all his fingers but his pinky finger. “Pinky promise.”

Hux looked from Ben down to his hand, wary but also confused, but reached out, leading with his own pinky finger. Not knowing what to do Ben did it for him, curling his finger around Hux’s and gently shaking his arm in a bobbing movement.

“This is a pinky promise,” Ben said before releasing his hand. “It means this is a promise I can’t break.” Hux didn’t look confused any more but it appeared that he turned sad instead. “I won’t break it.”

Hux shook his head but then pushed his chin up, looking back to the tree. “Show me how to climb a tree.”

“Right!” Ben regarded the tree but kept glancing back to Hux as he continued to talk. “So, a good tree, to learn how to climb, should have little spots that you can position your feet onto. Low branches also work. This tree has both.” Near the base of the trunk, slightly above the biggest root, was a rough patch of wood, sticking out. Ben stepped up onto it with one foot, which brought him into a taller position so that when he stretched his hand above his head he could grab hold of one of the branches. “Like that. Now, since I got one hand up-“ Looking around the trunk for additional spots he found a slightly higher notch. “I can move my other foot.” Stepping high with his knee lifting, he got the toe of his runners into the notch. Hoisted himself higher with the push of his feet and the pull of his arm until his right hand could grab the next branch. By hooking his left foot so the treads of his shoe were against the bark he had enough lift and upward movement to get himself close enough to edge onto the left branch, seating himself on the sturdy limb. “I’ve climbed to the first branch.”

Hux had been tracking his movements. “That looks pretty easy.”

“Now your turn to try!” Ben jumped down from his branch, causing Hux to jump back in alarm. Ben straightened up from his crouch, wiping his hands off on his pants. “I can help.”

The only thing that proved tricky was the idea of balancing. Hux had to place both hands on the trunk to steady himself as he had his left foot on the first jutting piece of the tree. Ben kept his hands on Hux’s back until Hux had his hand up on the branch. He stepped back when Hux moved his other foot into position. 

In several seconds Hux was seated on the branch, grinning down to Ben. “I did it!”

“Do you want to go higher? We can climb this tree some more or try a different one,” Ben suggested. 

Hux glanced up to the branches overhead. “How high can you go on this one?”

“Three more up! They start thinning out after that.”

He continued to study the branches. “Which other trees have you climbed?”

“I’ve climbed…” Circling from his spot, Ben shook his hand in gesture. “The tree – one, two to your right!”

“Is it hard?” Hux was looking over to the tree once he realised which one it was.

“It’s taller but easy,” Ben reassured him. 

Decided on the matter, already shuffling his feet towards the trunk of the tree, Hux stalled. “How do I climb down?”

“Just do everything – backwards,” Ben said, watching as Hux braced a hand on the tree. “Or you can jump down, like I did, since it’s not too tall. It’s easy. Go feet first, sort of slide, and bend your knees.”

Hux nearly toppled onto his bum with the landing, but stayed on his feet, lifting his eyes up to Ben with surprise. “I thought I would be scared – but it’s not so bad.”

“Let me show you the other tree!” Dashing ahead Ben waited by the tree, Hux only a couple of seconds behind. “Do you want me to go first?”

Hux looked from Ben to the tree and back. With a grin he shook his head. “I can go first.”

Ben waited to see if he needed help but he was excited to see Hux do it on his own, finding the right places to position his feet on the trunk, and even learning how to use the traction of his shoes to advantage. To his delight Hux passed by the first branch, climbing up to the second highest branch. 

“You did it!” Ben shouted. 

Hux had a tight grip on the tree and branch but he was grinning. “This is easy!”

“I’m coming!” Moving faster, with more confidence and practise than Hux, Ben started climbing. Passed the first branch, at which Hux’s smile wavered. “Don’t worry, I’m coming up to you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hux started, fingers digging into the bark. 

“Me and Poe sit on the branch together, we fit.” Shifting his weight right and up he came up higher, until he was ready to push onto the tree limb. Ben settled in, balancing down to the branch. “It’s good, see, we can fit.”

But he forgot about Hux’s outstretched arm, holding onto the trunk, until he bumped into it. 

Ben pushed himself out to grab the hand Hux had on the branch but Hux was faster than him, slipping back and out of his grip. 

Perhaps it was a recollection of Ben coaching him to jump down with his knees bent. As Hux was falling back, he bent his leg. And it remained bent, awkwardly so, underneath his weight.

The wail that pitched out of Hux’s mouth had Ben scrambling down the tree, checking on Hux before running home.

*

Hux’s tears had dried up by the time Ben brought his dad to the clearing, but by then Ben was crying for him. 

“Kid – Hux,” Ben’s dad corrected himself, quickly glancing to the boy sitting sideways along the back bench of his truck. “I know you’re trying to be brave,” he said, voice softening when Hux looked his way. “And I know you must be hurting horribly. I would be too. If you need to cry you can.”

Ben’s throat was tightening around his sobs, trying to not watch his dad or Hux from the front passenger seat. It was easy to do when everything appeared blurry, from the road they were taking to the various items that covered the inside of the truck.

“I – I’m so sorry Hux, I told you it was safe,” he stammered, fingers clenched around the belt, tears dripping down his cheeks. “A-and I promised to you-”

“It’s okay,” Hux replied softly from the back. 

“It’s not!” Ben jerked away from the hand his dad put on his shoulder, squeezing softly. “I should have listened to you – I wanted to have fun sitting beside you and you fell – it was me!”

“You didn’t know that would happen,” his dad reassured him, fingers settling into his hair, scratching lightly. 

Ben whined and shook his head, tears heavier. 

Ben didn’t watch his dad put his hand back on the wheel, turning the truck into the hospital. Turning off the ignition he looked to Hux, then back to Ben. Ben was still too busy crying to notice him watching both of them, red-eyed and crying or on the verge of crying. Ben only looked up when he said his name, his voice coming from his right. 

Han stood outside the truck, carrying Hux in a manner that was awkward for both of them. Hux was biting his lip and trying to keep pained whimpers at bay. Han struggled to relearn how to carry a kid against his hip and waist, not wanting to bend Hux’s leg any more than it already was. “Come on Ben. I’d offer to carry you but I don’t think I can manage both of you.”

Ben hopped out of the truck, nearly crying again when he realised that jumping down for him was harmless, unlike Hux. Han shut the door once he had locked it but once he pocketed his keys his hand petted through Ben’s hair, steering them towards the hospital doors.

It wasn’t busy which made them an easy target once they were inside. The woman at the other end of the room, looking at them over several rows of chairs, looked up to them. Ben squirmed and pressed his face into his dad’s hip.

It was an awkward walk, Ben’s dad encumbered by two clingy kids. “My… uh, my son’s friend broke his leg this morning.”

Her gaze may have widened a fraction but she was already taking hold of a phone, lifting up the receiver. “Has the boy’s father been notified?” 

“I don’t know their number, they live behind us, but I can go home to check,” he explained.

“We need a parent to stay with him until a doctor can see –“

“Hux.” Hux mumbled, lifting his face from his shoulder.

“Hux, what’s your dad’s phone number?” 

Concentrating was better than crying or pain. It took several seconds longer, and a couple misquoted numbers, but eventually Hux recited the full number, the nurse writing it down. 

Ben reached out for Hux’s good leg, fingers loose around his ankle.

Hux sniffled but tried his best to stop squirming.

“I’m phoning ahead to the x-ray department but to get Hux somewhat more comfortable I’ll get a stretcher. A technician will come shortly to take you to the room,” she explained, her voice sounding far away since she was talking to his dad, and Ben was partially hidden by the desk.

“Thank you.” 

“Will I be able to go with him?” Ben asked once she was talking on her phone. 

“Not into the x-ray room but there should be a waiting room nearby.” 

Eyes hurting and throat dry, he nodded, waiting beside his dad. He kept his face against his dad, afraid to look up to Hux or whoever it would be who’d take them to the x-ray room.

Once Hux was inside Ben was in his dad’s lap, crying into the shoulder that Hux hadn’t been crying into.

“You were smart to come to me,” his dad was saying, one hand rubbing his back, the other stroking his head. “We got Hux to the hospital where the doctors will make him better. Hux will have to get a cast, but that means you’ll be able to sign it. If it weren’t for you Hux would be alone.”

“But I made him come out with me,” Ben mumbled, fingers wrapped in his dad’s shirt. “I made him fall.”

“It was an accident, kid.” Ben didn’t feel better from the kiss on the top of his head, not when Hux wasn’t better.

Ben jumped out of his dad’s lap when Hux was brought back out. The stretcher wasn’t too tall that Ben couldn’t reach his hand. “I’m sorry. You can hate me. I made you climb that tree.”

“I don’t hate you,” Hux reassured him, his fingers trying to tighten around Ben’s. His voice sounded tired, and Ben realised he felt a little tired too. “I wanted to climb the tree.”

“We haven’t heard from his dad yet, so if you could come with us?” It was the same technician who pushed the stretcher along the hall. “We need to go to the fracture clinic to proceed with setting the bones and casting.” 

Ben no longer tried to hide his face but kept his hand tightly in his dad’s, following after Hux.

He never realised how much waiting was done in a hospital. Ben tried to talk with Hux, despite the guilt that hung over him, but stayed quiet, huddled up against his dad. When Hux fell asleep Ben settled his head onto his dad’s arm. 

When he woke up he was back at home, laying on the couch with a thin blanket on top of him. His dad had brought him home when Hux’s mom arrived at the hospital.

Had he properly recognised his dad’s words, the mention of Hux’s mom, he would’ve been alarmed. As it was, groggy and still ashamed, Ben eased back down, head and stomach heavy.

*

The next morning was a Thursday. Normally that meant it would be a play day with Hux in his back yard, but Ben knew that wouldn’t happen. Still tired, he buried himself back under his blankets but a hand settled onto his head, thin fingers combing through his hair.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want to get up,” he mumbled into his pillow, ignoring his mom.

“What if I want to give you a hug?” He shook his head to her question, holding tighter to his blanket. “I thought you liked my hugs.”

He squeezed his eyes, feeling moisture building. “I don’t want a hug.”

“Yes you do,” she repeated, fingers pressing to his neck. “You deserve so many hugs.”

“No I don’t!”

His mom gently pulled him over, rolling onto his other side so that his next attempt to hide his face was into her lap. “Dad told me how brave you were, how you helped Hux.”

“I made him fall! I – I made Hux hurt himself,” he stammered.

Her hand was back in his hair, slowly untangling it. “It was an accident sweetie, he knows that you didn’t mean to do it.”

Attempting to sniff back his sobs and runny nose he shook his head. “But he’s got a cast on because of me.”

“You know what we could do today? We can go buy him some balloons that say get well soon. And… what kind of things does he like to do when you two aren’t playing?” she asked.

Ben looked up, eyes glassy, reluctant to even move, but responding automatically. “Hux likes reading, but he likes puzzles too. Not the… jigsaw puzzles but…” He couldn’t remember what Hux called them, but he remembered that his teacher was always happy at how good he was with numbers.

Something about that niggled at his memory. 

“I think some kind of number puzzle,” he added. 

“Once you’ve had breakfast-” She gave him a quick scratch at his scalp, which did help to interrupt the sense of calm she coaxed into him. “We can go to a couple of stores. If the bookstore doesn’t have any puzzles I know of another place we can go.”

“Alright.” Pulling his blanket away, he sat up, sighing in a way that had her frowning. “I’ll get dressed first.”

“See you downstairs.” She kissed the top of his head before standing up, closing the door of his room to let him dress. 

The day dragged on, even though it turned out he had slept in longer than his parents would normally let him. While he did like picking out the balloons and books for Hux it took longer to get home than he expected. He didn’t usually go grocery shopping with his parents but his mom decided they would do it together. By the time they got home he was still tired despite the sun still shining.

The colour of the sun, reminiscent of Hux’s hair as it was beginning to lower into the horizon, seemed to lift his weariness. 

He felt more determined to give Hux his get-well gift, but Mom was making dinner while putting away the groceries. He was helping her put away the food they didn’t need for dinner, while the gifts waited in their shopping bags. 

After dinner they wrapped them. 

Dad promised that they would take the gifts over the next morning.

* * *

Gifts and balloons in hand, they stood at the bottom of the driveway, his dad not moving despite how much he pulled. Ben didn’t know why until he turned to face the house again. 

The couch wasn’t positioned in front of the window. 

No one answered the door when they knocked. 

They returned home, saving the gifts for later in favour of going to the park. Ben would’ve preferred to stay home but his dad insisted, suggesting that Poe might be waiting for them. 

Poe was and it should’ve been more fun, the older boy doing all of Ben’s favourite things with him. 

It was another stretch of time that felt too long. He smiled for every smile that Poe gave him, and his mom and his own dad, but it only made him think of how he would’ve liked for Hux to meet Poe, to have Hux with them at the park.

Back at home he told his dad he wanted to read outside. Han had a few things to do inside but he would call for him if he needed him. He took his book out to the swing set, sitting there and turning the pages for several minutes. 

Deciding he had waited long enough, he set his book on the ground. Turned to look to the back door before creeping over to the fence. 

He slid through the gap that he and Hux created. 

Hux hadn’t been joking when he said they had nothing outside. Their back yard was empty. Not even a chair set up outside their back door. 

He did smile when he spotted the baseball he gave Hux to practise with on the step that filled the space between door level and the grass. He would’ve picked it right up but pushed the door to the side. It was probably locked.

The glass door eased open. 

He stepped into a narrow mudroom, undecorated. No shoes, not even mud on the floor.

There was no other door, just a door-free entrance into what looked like a kitchen. The fridge and oven gave it away but there was no kitchen table or chairs. The counter space was dusty but otherwise uncluttered. 

“Hello?” Ben called, hoping to hear someone in the house. Ideally Hux, but anyone would be reassuring. The shadows in the corners plus the lack of blinds making everything else too bright, made him feel the emptiness too much. 

The next room over, where once he and his parents had seen a chair from the view of a window, was also empty. Every room on the main floor was empty. 

Breath hitching, he took the stairs up to the second floor. He didn’t want to look at all of the bedrooms but there was one he needed to look in before he left. 

Stepping into Hux’s room, he found the room empty. No curtains ensured he could see across clearly to his room. 

Tears streaking his face he ran from the house, leaving the ball behind. 

Leaving his book under the swing, he ran inside his house.

When he found his dad he hugged his legs tight, unable to stop sobbing to answer his questions.

He tired himself out from crying in due time. Curled up alongside his dad he let his dad’s voice roll over him, a rumble that appeased the ache in his head. “They moved away.”

“It looks like it,” his dad agreed. 

Ben frowned, pouting without reprimand. “Why didn’t Hux tell me?” 

“Maybe he didn’t know. His dad must have had a lot of people helping them to move everything out in a day.”

Thinking about the gifts that would never be opened Ben sighed. “I never got to apologise to him.”

“Ben.” His dad reached for his chin, angling it up so their eyes met. Ben’s gaze was heavy but met his dad’s, sad but a hint of smile lines playing at the corners. “Hux never blamed you. He told you himself.”

He needed to hear it one more time to believe it.

Playing in the back yard no longer appealed to Ben. With two months of having the whole day for himself he had too much time to think. His favourite things, reading or playing, inside or outside, didn’t grab him like they used to. His attention would drift away easily. Even Poe, who could get him laughing easily, didn’t get more than a small smile out of him. 

Ben knew his parents didn’t want him to overhear him. But their voices carried upstairs while he lay in bed, trying to sleep despite the setting sun creeping through his blinds. 

“I’ve made an appointment with the doctor but he’s not available until next week. He’s apparently taking his family on vacation for a personal long week.”

His mom didn’t sound pleased about that. 

“Just tell me when it is. If I have to get someone to cover my shift than that’s what I’ll do.”

“I don’t blame the boy-”

“His name is Hux.”

“But his dad must have known that you and Ben got him to the hospital. He should’ve let us know, if not let Hux tell Ben.”

The doorbell rang, stopping the conversation. 

His parents kept talking, lowering their voices as they came to the door, positioned at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Good evening.” A beat that had Ben curious for not being able to see what filled the pause. “Are you Mister Solo? We have a few questions for you.”

“If this is about my parking ticket I mailed the payment yesterday.”

“No, this is about unpaid expenses at the hospital. These are questions about the boy you brought in and his parents.”

“Can we talk about this inside?” his mom cut in, raising her voice sharply, softening it instantly for the next word. “Please?”

Their voices quieted after the door shut and footsteps moved away from the doorway. 

Creeping out of bed Ben, stepped out of his bedroom. Waited for the last of their shadows to turn out of the hallway before slowly taking the stairs down. He never needed to be careful before but this time he put his feet down carefully, mindful of the spots that creaked.

After his silent descent he waited in the hallway. Their voices, though lowered, were coming from the family room. He stuck back far enough in the hallway to not be seen but moved nearer to hear better. 

“When were you in their house?” 

“I first went over with my son Friday morning. We were going to give him a get-well gift. We first noticed that the couch in their front room wasn’t there. Later in the afternoon when my son was napping I came back to look some more. I apologise for that, I realise that could be a break and enter, but I just wanted something I could say to reassure my boy. But the whole house was empty. I told him that there must have been some reason for moving away with no notice but… he’s smarter than that. I just was looking for something to cheer him.”

“They were close?” 

There was a silence before his dad answered. He could imagine his dad was shrugging. “I think he was Hux’s only friend.”

Ben turned away, eyes squeezed shut. His feet took him back the way he went but of course he couldn’t see to ensure that he wouldn’t stub his toe against the baseboard. 

The silence came again, disrupted by a sigh. 

His mom was quick to find him in the hallway. “Ben, back to bed.” Bending down to pick him up, she got only two steps before the voice that Ben didn’t know spoke again. 

“If I could – I have a few questions for your son. I promise I’ll be quick.” 

He felt her lips twist when she went to kiss his forehead. Her next step turned them around. 

Ben was set on her lap, her arms tight around him. Rather than facing his mom he was seated forward, to the officer seated across from them on the shorter couch. 

“Hi Ben. I have some questions about your friend Hux. Would you be able to answer them?” he asked. 

Ben shook his head. “I can answer those that I know the answer to.”

The officer smiled, nodding in approval. “Those are the best answers. So, how long have you known Hux?” 

“I think… maybe May? I saw him first, talked to him the next day.” 

The officer wrote down something on the pad of paper he had perched on his knee before bringing his gaze back up. “That’s perfect. You have a great memory. Do you remember meeting his parents?”

“No, Hux always came over to my back yard to play. I wasn’t inside his house until last week,” Ben explained.

Han coughed and shifted beside him. The officer arched a thick eyebrow but didn’t say anything else. 

“Hux talked only a little about his dad but I never saw him. But Hux doesn’t have a mom.” 

“Yes he does,” Han added, redirecting his attention to the officer. “She came to the hospital for Hux. We came home while she waited with Hux.”

“The doctors in attendance that day confirmed she came,” the officer said, though he kept his gaze to Ben, encouraging him to continue. 

“Hux told me he doesn’t have a mom. He lived with his dad and he had a teacher that came to the house,” Ben added.

The officer’s expression didn’t change but his fingers tightened on his pen. “A teacher?” 

“I don’t know her name, Hux didn’t tell me.” As if sensing the next question Ben shook his head. “I never met her. Hux did tell me that she sounded just like him and his dad, and that they met her in New York.”

The officer was writing on his notepad before standing up. “You’ve been a lot of help, Ben. Thank you for answering my questions.” 

Ben took the tightening on his mom’s arms around him as a cue of response. “You’re welcome.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Solo, thank you for answering my questions.” He shook hands with his dad, though his dad’s arm was stiff, rigidly lowering back to his side. “If you remember anything else that might be important, please phone me at this number.” The hand that had pocketed the notepad pulled a business card out of a different pocket. “I may have additional questions for you.” 

“Sure, anything to help,” his mom said, though her voice sounded unlike her, small and almost nervous.

“I...” The officer hesitated, eyes flicking back and forth between his mom and dad. It seemed that he was purposely not looking at him. It was strange, when his face had been soft and unwavering moments before. “I hope that I see you again.” 

Ben rested his head against his mom’s chest, wondering why her heartbeat was racing under his ear. 

If they saw the officer again, would that mean he would have good news? That he could tell them where Hux was?

He fell asleep praying for good news. 

Woke up, a week after Hux’s fall, finding a reason to smile.


	2. Mended Fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving several years forward, eleven-year-old Ben struggles to find his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I couldn't do this without help. Thank you kyluxtrashcompactor for answering questions (slightly confused Canadian here) but also being a fantastic beta. <3

The door swung open, the wind tearing it out of the boy’s hand as he was pushing it. He chased after the handle but too late, the door jarring and shuddering on the hinges. 

“Ben!” The warning voice of his mom came from the kitchen.

“It was the wind!” he protested, toeing off his muddy runners onto the shoe mat beside the door. When he joined her in the other room he found her standing over the kitchen table, sorting through paperwork she’d brought home from the office. “It has been raining all day,” he said, trying not to pout. Without a hood on his jacket his hair was drenched and sticking to his pale face. 

The disapproving look that she’d been favouring her paper work with faded when she looked up, reaching for his hair, barely peeling one strand loose before Ben stepped backwards. “You’re going to need a haircut soon,” she commented with a faint smile.

Looking sideways when she glanced back to the table, he set his backpack down. “I only need a trim.”

She made a noncommittal noise but he knew it wasn’t in agreement. “We can go next week.”

Eager to get out of his soaked jacket and the kitchen he shuffled on his feet. “Since you’re using the kitchen I’m going up to my room to do my homework,” he explained.

“Of course sweetie, we’ll call you down for dinner.”

Finally finding his escape Ben headed upstairs, backpack in tow. Removing his books, he sorted them into piles on his bed. Math at the front and English the last. Picking up his math books with an air of determination he brought them to his desk. 

Purposely ignored the small hardcover notebook at the corner of his desk, closest to his bed. 

The afternoon went by quietly, pencil scratching only interrupted briefly when he heard the front door open and his dad call out to the house. His mom responded but he didn’t, working on his English. Just as he finished he could smell dinner cooking in the oven. 

Getting up with a stretch he turned around, glancing briefly to his window before eyeing the hardcover book. He could still hear the rain, hitting the pane hard and fast. He could try ignoring it in favour of the most recent book he’d gotten from the library or he could listen to music. 

He had barely gotten into the first track of his CD when he heard his mom yell up. “Turn off the music, dinner will be ready soon!”

Faceplanting into his bed, frowning with a muffled groan, he crawled to the edge, stretching out for his small stereo, finger punching the stop button.

Flipping around to his back, he stared up at the ceiling. His hair had dried enough that it slid to frame his forehead, dangling close to his ears. 

Dinner itself was as unexciting as his day. The papers had been cleared away in favour of placemats and food, but he kept glancing to his mom and dad, biting his lip when he wasn’t eating. 

“Is there any chance I could start coming home on my own?” He mustered up the words when his mom had her fork poised in front of her mouth, his dad caught in mid-chew. “I’m going to be twelve in the fall, I’m old enough that I don’t need to keep going to Maz’s on the days you aren’t home. When I get home I’ll start on my homework, like I do at Maz’s. I’m not any trouble, I can take care of myself, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” his mom replied after she set her fork down. “When grade seven starts-”

He lifted his gaze slowly once he was sure he had his expression set to bemused but, more importantly, unaccusing. “Why not now?”

“What your mom means is that we have set up our schedules to be home for you,” his dad added, giving him a reassuring look. “We both need to look into the schedules of the people we work with. It shouldn’t be difficult to adjust everything to meet everyone’s needs.”

“We can give it a trial run next week, but we’ll plan for it after your appointment tomorrow,” she explained, nodding along with his dad. 

Ben quickly took a mouthful of his own, stopping any words that wanted to jump free.

After cleaning up in the kitchen, dishes in the dishwasher, Ben hurried upstairs. Normally he would’ve stayed in the family room for a little while but his parents were no fools. They spent too much time watching him, considering all his little mannerisms that may or may not mean anything. 

To them they meant everything. 

Tonight they let him slip away.

Back in his room he turned on his CD again, shutting the door so his parents couldn’t hear it and stop him. Poe had given it to him, thinking he might like it.

After his parents had heard the lyrics properly he’d had to hide the CD under his mattress.

He listened to Kurt for two tracks before grudgingly picking up the hardcover book, resettling onto his bed. The pencil bookmarked the empty page that would be his new entry. 

Dating the page, he tapped the lead on the paper before writing.

> _Matt and Ryan left me alone at recess and lunch but in class they kept looking at me. Would whisper with each other before laughing and looking back at me._
> 
> _It made me suspicious. Kept waiting for them to do something, which is almost as bad – or worse, then them actually doing something to me._
> 
> _Asked mom and dad if they would let me stay at home alone after school. I’m the only kid in my grade who needs to go to a babysitter. I don’t think half the kids in grade five even have babysitters. Does this mean they don’t trust me? What else could it mean?_

Closing his book, pencil back inside, he slid it into his backpack. His mom would be picking him up from school to take him to his appointment.

Inn the car the following day Ben struggled to keep his notebook and pencil angled away from his mom, while recounting the way Ryan had pried his way into his backpack while Matt kept him busy. Had found the notebook inside, pretending to read it aloud when he opened it.

“Oh, it’s another story about what you did with your imaginary friend – Harry!” Clearing his voice for dramatic effect and pitching it for the other students around them to hear, Ryan continued. Matt had a strong grip on Ben’s arms, keeping him from charging Ryan. “Harry and I went to the park, but he wasn’t able to push me on the swings. He is, of course, not strong enough to do that. Because, of course, he isn’t there!”

Ben had to dig through the garbage to get his notebook back while everyone else scrambled to their classes. 

He was fighting back the tears again in the waiting room, where the only other kid was a high school student who barely looked his way. 

Only on their way home did Ben finally find a reason to smile, however weak it was. 

“Dr. Greene says you’re ready to stay at home on your own now. We can have a trial run for the next couple of weeks and if it works then we should be able to keep to that,” his mom explained, turning out of the parking lot. “And by the end of the summer holiday, regardless of how things progress, we will stick to that.”

It was always dependent on the doctor’s advice.

*

A couple of weeks later, lightened by leaving Maz’s house, (on no account of the woman herself, just thankful that he could finally return home), Ben walked up the driveway, his dad’s car pulled tightly to the left. it.. It left enough room for his mom to park in the garage, when she finally got home. Now that she spent less time travelling for work she tended to work longer hours in the office. Dinner was always served at the same time but four days of the week Dad cooked. 

He didn’t know what the dinner plans consisted of but his dad’s cooking skills had improved while his mom tended to stick to simpler fare. 

Setting the table quickly, he hurried up to his room, pulling out his English homework. He did fairly well in most of his classes but his love of reading always meant he threw most of his effort into English. And leaving it until last always enticed him to do the rest of his homework efficiently so he wouldn’t have to re-do it, leaving him as much time as needed to do the questions his teacher assigned him. 

Dinner was ready within minutes of Mom coming in through the door. He had finished his homework ten minutes before her arrival so he went down the stairs without being called.

He was being on his best behaviour in preparation of his next appointment, to gain his parents approval.

Luckily Matt and Ryan only left him with a bruise, easy to hide under his shirt sleeve. Making up a less incriminating story, the worst parts omitted, he shared it with Dr. Greene.

* * *

That weekend he celebrated the honour of reclaiming the house for himself. A dinner out on Friday was a treat. The rest of the weekend went by without a hitch, though that was only because he went to Poe’s place for a few hours. Poe’s mom wasn’t home to account for the other boy who was with them. 

Finn was primarily Poe’s friend though he tried to be friends with him. Ben was nice to him out of necessity and his own friendship to Poe but for the most part didn’t spend extra time with Finn. 

He and Finn were walking home when Finn offered the baseball to him. “Do you want to hit the ball tomorrow?”

Ben kept walking, keeping his gaze forward. “I don’t have a bat.”

“I’ve got two bats, you can borrow one of mine.”

“No, I’ve got schoolwork to do.” Which was a lie, he finished it all yesterday 

“Well, hang onto the ball for now, and we can play on Monday,” Finn said while trying to pass the baseball to him. 

“No, it’s okay.” He purposely kept his hands in his pockets, which Finn noted with a glance.

“Do you want to do something else tomorrow then? Or Monday?”

He tilted his head slightly, shrugged. “If I get my homework done on time.”

Finn tossed the ball up lightly and caught it in his palm as they walked, in rhythm with their steps. “It would be nice if you actually liked playing with me.” 

“I don’t like baseball anymore,” Ben pointed out at last, looking at Finn properly. “You love playing outside and I’m happy to stay inside. I listen to music and read and do schoolwork. If we were in the same class we could do schoolwork together but we’re not even in the same grade.”

“You play with Poe but he’s a year older than you,” Finn countered. He knew he was turning him down and though a hint of disappointment was evident, he looked more confused than anything. 

Ben knew Finn wouldn’t like the truth.

“And you hang out with Poe even though he’s three years older than you,” Ben added. 

“Rey lives across the street from him, and he and Rey play together.”

“That’s because Rey doesn’t take no for an answer and will annoy anyone until they play with her.”

Finn finally frowned, which Ben intended. Finn and Rey shared the same teacher and even outside of school were normally glued at the hip. The only reason she hadn’t been at Poe’s was because she had karate class. “Poe tells me how much fun you and him used to have. How you would play every week. But not now. I would think that you two had a fight but it seems like you get along fine.” 

Ben shook his head, hair brushing into his eyes. “I like different things now. That’s all.”

“Maybe you and I can find something that we both like,” Finn suggested, unable to keep the hopeful tone hidden. 

Ben stopped at the corner of his street, trying not to sigh. “Maybe.”

But when the light in the bedroom across from his flickered on later that evening after Finn’s family movie night, Ben quickly hid. He turned off his own light and slid off his bed to the floor. 

Hunching in on himself, lips pushed together, Ben ducked his head.

The mended fence between them was the type of neighbour he preferred now.

*

He kept his bedroom blinds shut all the time. Made sure nothing was positioned to give him a clear view out the window. When a desk was brought into his bedroom so that he could do homework, it went along the same wall as his door. The head of his bed was positioned beside the desk, meeting the corner of the two walls. A bigger bookshelf had also been purchased, housing most of his books to the wall opposite of his bed, beside the closet. Under his window remained his original shelving unit with his alarm clock and small stereo, a few of his favourite books and several forgotten toys he never had the heart to throw away. 

If anyone were to come into his bedroom they would call it boring. His parents had no reason to complain since he always kept it clean. He spent most of his time in his room so everything was always in order. 

The days when he immediately ran outside to play or read were long ago, forgotten like the healthy glow he once had. The freckles lingered but were a stark contrast to fair skin. 

Not even the sunnier days of April could draw him out of hibernation. 

He couldn’t silence his groan though, shoulders sinking at his mom’s announcement over dinner one evening. 

“Uncle Luke was asking about the summer holidays,” she said, purposely glancing his way with a smile. 

“Again?” The downturn of her smile curtailed his own frown, cut off any more words from being groaned. “But we go every summer!”

“It gives us three weeks to visit, which is more than triple the time we spend together over Christmas,” his dad reminded once he finished his sip of water. “It’s the best time to see each other.”

Ben fought the urge to cross his arms, aware of the looks they were both giving him. “But we don’t fly out there–we drive, and its too long! And we wake up so early to get there.”

“That’s why you manage to sleep in in the car and finish at least one book.” He could tell that his dad was struggling not to laugh for the frown he continued to struggle against.

“Luke phoned me to ask if we had decided when we would be coming,” his mom continued, the decision apparently already made between the two siblings. “It helps to know in advance when to schedule our block of time at the cottage.”

“Late July is always good weather.” His dad leaned back in his chair, tapping his jaw. “Do you know if you have any commitments for work?” 

“I’ll look tomorrow and then we can decide after dinner.”

Ben shoveled food in his mouth, shaking his head slightly. 

He was sure there were worse ways to spend his summer but he didn’t want to find out what those were. 

Without any of his input, his parents had decided the last two weeks of July and the first week of August would be their annual summer vacation to Colorado. Nights pleasantly cool and the days spent on the lake hot and sunny. Luke spent the summer months at what they called the Skywalker retreat. It was a stretch of land close to the mountains, several cottages along the east coast of a lake. He and a family friend, that they all affectionately referred to as Chewie, maintained the area over the summer holidays. They tended to the property, from the beach and its two docks to the cottages, which they kept clean even if they weren’t in use. May and September Chewie kept the cottages open whenever families wanted an early or late vacation, or a weekend holiday. It was a perfect getaway for families. Luke would come up when he was available but the private school he operated took up most of his time. 

The worst part of the vacation was always the car ride, back seat and trunk crammed with their suitcases and other summer necessities. When they got closer he would be responsible for holding onto the groceries they picked up. 

The bug bites and sunburn were tied for a close second. 

The good news was that there was still three months to wait until their vacation. 

The bad news was that he still had to endure Rey and Finn outside of school and Ryan and Matt during school. Getting to and from class remained a chore. Recess involved dodging their soccer ball as often as hiding from them in general. 

The nice weather did mean he was less likely to get a paperback soaked when he brought one outside, when Ryan or Matt decided not to throw them over a fence into someone’s back yard, or worse, into the garbage. 

Not that he would ever mention any of it to his parents. 

If he happened to omit those details in Dr. Greene’s assigned writings no one was the wiser. 

And sometimes, when the May sun dappled patterns over his face through the tree branches, he could pretend that he was perfectly fine. 

*

“Could I borrow your discman when I go on vacation?”

“If you’re talking about your family, three-week vacation, not a chance.” Poe snorted lightly, playing his video game while Ben left his character idling, standing in the middle of the on-screen onslaught.

“Great, so I’ll have to listen to my dad sing out of tune for fifteen hours of the car ride.” He had given up on the game five minutes ago, attention drifting to anything but the game. 

Poe saved the game, returned to the main-menu, changed it back to one-player mode. Resumed the game on his own after glancing to Ben. “I could always buy you a discman for your birthday.” 

“But that’s not until the fall.” Not that he needed one. It was just another means to pass the time. He could always leave two books unpacked to read in the car. 

Music and action started, accented by the melodic and occasionally rhythmic retaliation of Poe’s character against the bad guys. “I could always buy you an early birthday gift. I’ll give it to you the day before you leave. I don’t need another reason for you to not pay attention to me.”

“I do pay attention to you!” Even without looking at Poe his friend’s silence was telling enough. “Most of the time.”

A sharp jab at a button had the character jumping, not any higher or faster than the fast thumb implied. Ben glanced aside, trying to make it look like he was pulling out a chip from his own bowl. 

“Do you want to see a movie on Saturday?”

“Sure.” 

“Rey and Finn are choosing the movie.”

Ben decided the only safe response to that was an inward sigh, watching a roundhouse kick knock the bad guy to the ground on the screen.

“Should I meet up with you here then?” Ben asked, stretching his legs out and wiggling his toes.

“Yeah, my dad will drive us.”

Later, while he was watching his mom stare at the pot until it was boiling, he looked down to his placemat. He had set the table ten minutes ago even though he knew dinner possibly wouldn’t be ready for another hour. “Would it be alright if I see a movie with Poe?”

Cooking spoon held up in a near threatening gesture to the stovetop, his mom’s arm lowered when she turned around, expression lightening. “Of course, but we will need to know when you’re going.”

“Saturday afternoon,” Ben answered only to cock his head slightly. “Finn and Rey are choosing the movie so I don’t know exactly when.”

“Will you need a drive to the movies?” 

“No.” Ben waited a little bit longer until at last he couldn’t hold himself back, his mom’s hand starting to wag the spoon again at the stove. “You need to turn on the element.”

It seemed like an appropriate thing to write down in his notebook, taking it to his appointment the next day. Dr. Greene made no comment though a flicker of amusement crossed her face. 

She expressed how pleased she was to see that Ryan and Matt had only bothered him once that week. 

She didn’t need to know that Ryan had been making fun of him that morning for his two best friends being nine-year-old kids. 

Two more weeks until he’d be free of them for the summer.

Until then he talked as little as possible to Finn and Rey, sitting on the opposite side of Poe to avoid them at the cinema. 

*

Summer holidays were something of a routine for Ben. The first two weeks would involve going to Poe’s birthday party, never knowing when specifically it would happen thanks to working around Poe’s family’s commitments. Always on a Saturday night so parents and kids would have the whole Sunday to recover. 

For the most part he would spend a good chunk of the mornings inside. Waking up slowly, eating cereal for breakfast and shuffling around, watching his parents head off to work. Read inside or listen to music until a knock would come from the front door. 

He would wait until the knocking stopped. Stay in his room for an additional ten minutes before creeping down the stairs to the back door. 

Peer through the slats of the backyard gate to ensure no one was waiting at the front of the house.

Emerge slowly and cautiously. 

Listen with held breath at the edge of the walkway, tilting his head gradually to peek around to the path.

If the path was clear he bolted down it, into the woods.

He wandered the trails, book in hand. Sometimes it was a pencil and puzzle book, something he found fun to do over the summer when he didn’t have English and math classes to entertain him. Other times it was a reading book. 

Occasionally he would glance up, warmth coming down erratically around the branches, breath tight in his chest. Followed the trails until he found a good spot to write or read for a bit. 

Return to the house in an hour or two. Maybe, when his head started to hurt, open the door when someone was knocking at it again. Allow himself to be dragged out to play for a while even though he longed to be inside.

Made sure to be back home to be there when his mom or dad finished work. 

Those were the easy days. Other times he found himself organized, by Poe or by his own parents, to go to the local pool. At the very least it was preparation for swimming in the lake in July. Except he did have to beware of the flailing legs of Rey or Finn as they swam and splashed each other. Or someone’s parents taking them on a supervised trip into the city. The zoo wasn’t too bad, getting to watch other kids make fools of themselves in attempts to entertain the animals. 

At least on the weekend his parents always had something planned for the three of them. 

After several weeks it grew tiring, repetitive in its own ways. A predictable start and end of the day, the sun tracking the hours until he crawled into bed. As much as he hated to admit it he would soon find himself counting down the days until the horrible drive to Colorado. 

The first day of the trip started at 3:45 in the morning, finding Ben barely awake and swaying on his feet in the driveway. Ben tried to answer when his dad called for him for the fourth time. Managed a yawn that was intended to be yes, sounding more like one of Maz’s disgruntled cats. 

“Get in the back seat for me, tell me if you’re comfortable so I can figure out if I need to move anything around,” his dad said, backing up cautiously from the trunk that resembled a homemade version of Tetris. 

Six years of experience under his belt, which at the time was the waistband of his most comfortable pair of pyjamas, told him that even if he said no his dad would not rearrange the boxes and suitcases to let him be more comfortable. Climbing into the back seat, nudging the soft-case cooler his mom stocked up for the drive to the side, he had limited room for his legs and feet to stretch. His own bag of essentials, including the newest additions, discman and a new CD, was squeezed between him and the boxes of kitchenware, additionally swaddled by multiple beach towels. 

Not for the first time he wondered why they couldn’t tie anything to the top of the car. 

“It’s good,” he reassured his dad once he climbed out of the car, already needing to stretch. And yawn. Which reminded him. “Are the pillows already packed?”

“Oh shit.” 

At least he had his sweatshirt on. He could always ball it up into a makeshift pillow until it was a reasonable hour to wake-up. “I’ll be fine.”

At four they were turning off of Hart Court, their vacation beginning.

Car games had stopped interesting him five years ago. He didn’t mind staring out the window, watching the landscape change, but his gaze always drifted to the clock over the car radio, counting down the hours. Watching the grass at the side of the highway, reading and listening to his music wasn’t distracting enough for him to ignore the way his legs were cramping up. And on their last stretch of the ride, the last pit-stop had been an hour ago and the sky too dark to read; he was left to gaze blankly at the few cars that shared the road with them.

The tires of the car spun with a different traction when the asphalt turned to dirt, and Han took a broader turn than he usually managed. Ben finally perked up out of his bleary half-sleep, wiggling his feet and legs, trying to convince them to wake up.

His feet still tingled when he got out of the car, standing and stretching. The air was pleasantly cool on his bare arms while exhaust fumes fanned away, through the thick trees dotted the shore away from the beach and towards the lake. 

It was possible that it could be a good vacation. 

Anything that involved his mom not engrossed in work, the long hours at the office or the material she brought home and talked about over the phone, was a good thing. Not thinking about Finn or Rey, even Poe, was a nice break. Having the quiet of the lake and the woods was a nice change from the neighbourhood he grew up. It had never been a busy area, not too close to the roads that led to his school, but out here in Colorado, by the lake, he didn’t have to worry about nosy neighbours or cars that drove too fast. 

Waking up the next morning, body a little too stiff for his liking, Ben ate breakfast with his parents. His mom was ten minutes into her coffee when someone knocked on the door, clearly knowing her well and that she needed to be properly caffeinated before talking.

“Glad to see you made it in safely last night,” Uncle Luke commented once the hug between brother and sister ended. 

“The essentials made it in safely,” she amended, which was acknowledged even by his dad lifting his own mug of coffee. “What needed to go into the fridge came in and we made the beds. The rest of the food came in a half hour ago.”

“You were always the best at prioritizing,” Uncle Luke acknowledged, taking the fourth seat at the table after she joined them again. “I still don’t know how you manage to drive straight here from Michigan every year.”

“I’m a professional,” Ben’s dad reminded Luke, spreading his hands in front of him, laying the facts open with his arms, smirking. “And I go to sleep right after dinner the night before driving here.”

“Which means it’s only hard for me and mom to wake up in the middle of the night,” Ben added after a mouthful of oatmeal. 

“And I hope that means that it’s only you and your mom that’s sleeping in the car,” Uncle Luke commented, eyes bright and fixed only on him. 

“Of course!” Ben quipped at the same time as his did, his dad’s voice coming slightly behind him. He carried a cup of coffee to Uncle Luke, who took it with a grateful nod. 

“Chewie has gone into town to pick up a few things, but it is just the five of us here for the next three weeks,” Luke explained after taking a sip of his coffee. “There will be a family coming two days before you leave but otherwise we have this side of the lake all to ourselves.” 

Leia finished her bowl before turning her gaze to the window in the seating area just past the kitchen. It was a small distance between the two open rooms; outside a path wound from the front of the cottage and around it to the back and from there to the closest of the two docks. It took no more than two minutes to get to the lake from the front door. “I’ve been looking forward to the break,” she admitted. 

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing everyone,” Luke mentioned. 

Luke stretched his arms over the table with intention, knowing that she would swat whichever part of his body was closest. 

“Of course I wanted to see you too!” Leia said.

“Do I always have to beg for affection?”

He got another swat for that.

* * *

Being eleven years old didn’t mean that his mom no longer slathered the sunscreen on him. Mostly she helped to make sure he had his back covered with the lotion, Ben taking care of the rest. He didn’t like the fact that no matter how often he reapplied he always wound up with red, peeling skin over his nose and chin. 

Lying back on his towel on the beach, the water that still beaded over his body warming up under the sun, he tilted the brim of his cap forward, covering his eyes and part of his nose. He wasn’t about to sleep but he’d forgotten his sunglasses in the cottage and didn’t want to go back to grab them. 

He had no need for music or his books. The music he wanted just for the car to break up the monotony. Maybe he’d grab a book for the afternoon, retreat into the shade behind the cottage, but right now he enjoyed the sun and being outside with no need to hide. He didn’t need to worry about being accosted by Finn, asking whether he wanted to talk or play. 

He didn’t budge when someone sat down beside him, their presence casting a shadow over him. If it had been his mom or dad they would’ve reached for his cap, adjusting it so they could look at him properly. The fact that the shadow wasn’t too long told him precisely who it was. “Hi Uncle Luke.”

“Sometimes I like coming out here early in the morning, when the only things I can hear are the birds and the waves lapping against the beach,” his uncle commented. 

“It sounds nice,” Ben replied, face in repose.

It was a few minutes later when Uncle Luke spoke again. “Out here, it really does feel like everything has stopped–for a while. No one has to rush around to get to work and the only phone around here is in my cottage, which normally doesn’t ring unless someone is phoning to inquire about available cottages.”

“Mom spends a lot of time on the phone. Normally talking about something work-related.”

“Your mom has always been like that. Even when she was a teenager, planning volunteer work or discussing what she and her friends would do on the weekends.”

“She had friends?” Tilting his cap back to look at his uncle, Ben narrowed his gaze up, shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand above his brow. “The only people she’s introduced me to is her coworkers.”

“And I imagine she only invites the people she trusts the most to meet her only son,” Uncle Luke pointed out, nodding when Ben’s face softened. “Has she ever mentioned someone by the name of Amilyn Holdo to you?” 

The Holdo part sounded familiar, though he couldn’t remember when he last heard his mom make mention of the person. “Probably. I remember hearing her saying Holdo.”

“She and your mom have been friends since high school. They even went to university together. They don’t get to see each other very often now, since Amilyn lives in New York City,” his uncle continued. 

Sitting up quickly Ben pulled his cap back into position, brim forward. “What? That’s not–I’ve always wanted to go to New York!”

“Maybe I can help convince your mom on that,” his uncle commented with a chuckle, but he looked sincere with his offer. “I think the last time your mom was in New York City was last year, March if I remember correctly–on a business trip. New York is too busy for me but it’s nice in other ways.”

Ben pushed his lips out, thinking in silence over the idea. As much as he would like to go on a trip in the summer, when his mom had more flexibility, he couldn’t picture his mom taking a trip to New York in place of visiting Uncle Luke. Maybe he could convince her to take him on spring break. With Uncle Luke’s help in convincing her. 

“Is…Amilyn nice?” Ben asked after considering his options for a bit longer. 

“Well…” Luke looked aside to him, a bit of a mischievous look on his face. “I have no reasons to dislike her. She is nice but…do you know what it’s like to meet someone who doesn’t have the same interests as you, and occasionally they annoy you because their interests don’t match up with yours?”

Ben held back the urge to roll his eyes, instantly thinking of Finn and Rey. “I know two people like that.” Then thought of Ryan and Matt. “And two more people who just aren’t nice at all.”

“Amilyn is nice, but because she and I don’t have the same interests, we just didn’t get along. The thing is–in many ways, she’s a lot like your mom,” Luke explained. 

His eyes widened, imagining the two women orchestrating vacation plans the same way his mom handled work business. His dad made the comparison for him and Ben had seen just how Mom ran her department the two times he came to work with her. “Oh.” 

“She isn’t that scary,” Luke reassured him with a laugh. 

“Well, if you say she isn’t, then…I’ll believe you.” It did make him a little wary of a trip to New York City but maybe this Amilyn would be too busy with work to spend all her time with them. 

“And that is the thing. She was a little intimidating, to me, but when she was with your mom, it’s like she was a different person,” Luke added, tilting his head up, the angle catching his hair to make it appear a warm brown. “Your mom brought the best out of her, and Amilyn did the same to her. They spend a lot of time on the phone to make up for not seeing each other.”

Ben gazed out to the lake, thinking about when the last time was he heard his mom laughing over the phone. The next time he did hear her laughing in a one-sided conversation he would have to pay more attention, to determine if she was talking to this woman.

* * *

Some days he crawled into bed exhausted, worn out by early mornings spent with his uncle, enjoying the quiet of the beach. Other days it was arms or legs tired, swimming in the lake or hiking along the forest trails with his mom or dad. He wound up going out in the canoe, at first with Uncle Luke. It had started with his uncle looking him over, appraising his wide shoulders that were just like his dad’s. Shoulders and arms that would know how to handle paddling a canoe. After he and his uncle beat his dad in a canoe race across the lake, his dad demanded that he help him to beat Uncle Luke. 

Chewie was also frequently involved in the activities around the lake. He had a slight aversion to the water, never getting deeper into the lake than wading in up to his knees. But he took him out into the depths of the forest, onto the beaten trails that his mom and dad didn’t know about. And he knew how to set up the fire pit so that it was perfect to cook hotdogs and smores on. 

As grudging as he was to go on the vacation, Chewie and Uncle Luke did know how to lift his spirits, help him forget about home. 

After one last night spent in front of the fire, looking out to the lake for the last time that year, Ben picked his way back to the cottage with his parents. Bare feet, accustomed to the scratch of pebbles and sand and dry grass against his skin, he walked steadily to the door, looking briefly to the car that was mostly full with their belongings. Their beach towels and bathing suits were hanging on the clothesline behind the cottage and the bedsheets would be rolled up to go into the second garbage bag designated as laundry. The last of the clean clothes were laid out in the two bedrooms, ready for the obscenely early wake up call. 

“I’m going to miss you Chewie,” Ben said from within the man’s embrace, feet dangling well off the ground in order to hug Chewie around the shoulders. 

The same sentiment was rumbled into his ear before he was set back down on the ground, feet on the wooden doorstep to the cottage. 

Before getting to bed he checked his bag one last time to make sure he had two books and his discman waiting for him. 

After the cramped drive home Ben got out of the car, briefly frowning at the noise of a barbeque party being held by one of the neighbours on the court. It didn’t last long, not when a glance towards his mom caught a wistful look on her tired face. 

He fell asleep remembering the warmth of the fire pit, of Uncle Luke and Chewie sitting on either side of him. 

Woke up determined to hold onto the recent memories and reach for the chance to make more good ones for himself. In a few short weeks he’d be going to the same school as Poe. How could that not be good?

He could do it. He would. 

*

Things had gone well, even before walking into the new school. The weeks before school started even felt hopeful. He had gotten along well with Finn the few times he had spent time with him while at Poe’s. Perhaps it was a combined effort from both himself and Finn but he didn’t feel the same pull of apathy that forced him to be calm and polite. He found himself laughing with Finn a few times and not at Finn or Poe’s expense. 

The first week of school had gone smoothly. His homeroom teacher was friendly and hadn’t pushed him to be more engaged with class discussions. His other classes looked promising too, the material easy to follow. 

It wasn’t until the third week of school that he bumped into Ryan and Matt. It had been close but he ducked out of sight just in time. Another factor may have been the fact that Ryan and Matt were walking with two other boys, deep in conversation as they made their way down the hall. 

His parents had also stayed true to their promise. While in the spring he still had gone to Maz’s house occasionally, along the lines of when both his mom and dad were working late, he was now allowed to stay home after school. Once in a while he saw Maz drinking tea, seated on her front porch. He’d wave hello to her, perhaps talk with her for a minute, before continuing up to his house. 

The optimistic attitude of September took a sharp change in October. He entered the school at the same time that Ryan had walked in with one of the new boys he considered a friend. Ryan elbowed Ben hard enough to push him against the wall. 

Ben rubbed his arm but continued to homeroom. 

It was two days later, leaving the classroom with his books for the next class, that they flew out of his arms, knocked to the floor by familiar hands. Rather than say anything to Matt he merely bent down to pick up his things from the floor. 

Ryan was laughing from across the hall. The only good thing was that the other two boys on either side of him were staring at Matt, silently gawking. They looked unimpressed but, all the same, they weren’t doing anything to help. 

Biting his lip, Ben reached for his textbook only to have Matt knock him backwards by pushing his foot against his shoulder. “Oh, clumsy are you today Solo?” Matt mocked when Ben landed on his butt. 

“I think you missed the floor,” Ben mumbled before pushing himself up. 

“What was that Solo?” Ryan asked loudly. “Talking to your imaginary friend again?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes Ben stood up, both books in hand, but found himself pushed up against the wall, Matt’s hands against his shoulders. Ryan walked up behind Matt, pushing Ben back again when he tried to slip sideways out of Matt’s grip. 

“Did you think we forgot all about you?” Matt asked, grinning. 

“Why would we do that?” Ryan asked, cocking his head. 

“I’m going to be late for class,” Ben protested, once again trying to get past them. 

“We want to chat with you,” Matt insisted, grabbing hold of his arm tightly enough for Ben to wince. 

“Yeah, well–I know you two don’t care if you’re late,” Ben muttered, dodging the other way but this time Matt moved to block his escape. 

“Hey now, don’t be like that,” Matt remarked, clipping him on the side of his head. 

Ben clenched his jaw, refusing to flinch away from his hand. “Stop that.” 

“What’s that?” Ryan asked, pushing him back against the wall. This time he hit the wall harder than before, a coat hook poking between his shoulder blades. “Are you telling us what to do?”

He started to duck his head but made sure to pitch his voice a fraction louder than a growl. “Leave me alone.”

“Sorry, what was that? We don’t have super hearing to go along with super sized ears,” Matt commented, grabbing hold of his ear. Yanked his head up, not letting go of the ear, pulling him forward. “Say that again?” 

Ryan was cackling until Ben dropped his books, lashing out with fists to Matt’s face. The first one missed but the second one struck Matt on the cheek. 

“Try that again brat!” Ryan snarled, pulling Ben back by the hair. 

Without thinking Ben stomped down hard on Ryan’s foot. 

It didn’t take long until both Ryan and Matt were both grabbing at him, pushing and pulling, punching whenever a coordinated effort worked to their advantage. Less than a minute later, the commotion of students yelling had caught the attention of three teachers who had to pry them apart. All the bystanders accounted that Ryan and Matt had started the fight but it didn’t do much to prevent punishment. Matt and Ryan were suspended for the rest of the week and Ben was given detention for the following day and sent home, but had to wait for his mom to pick him up.

His bloody nose and lip had been cleaned up before he got into the car but the throbbing pain persisted. 

“I can’t believe you did this,” she muttered, turning onto the court they lived on.

He hadn’t said anything for the whole drive but once they were in the driveway he looked up from his backpack, face carefully blank. “They started it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to engage them. You should’ve walked away.” 

“I tried,” Ben insisted, quiet but firm, getting out of the car. 

“Try harder.” Sighing through her nose she entered the house after Ben, pushing the button for the garage door harder than she normally did. “You’re lucky that you didn’t get suspended like the other boys.” 

Ben pursed his lips; he wanted to argue, but knowing that his mom had a response for everything he said it was useless. He shuffled out of his runners once he was at the front door, putting them on the shoe mat. 

“Your dad is going to be very disappointed in you.”

Posture limp and defeated he tensed up briefly, realising his mom was standing behind him. That she continued to follow him for the purpose of continuing to scold him made his head hurt more. “For standing up for myself? They’ve been bullying me since grade one,” he pointed out.

“Have you been lying to us?” Her voice was still firm, but the drop in volume and the sharpened edges had him warily looking back to her. “To Dr. Greene?” 

“You think I’m still a little boy who can’t do anything on his own,” Ben said, turning to face her, lifting his chin to meet her gaze. Those eyes continued to look at him in disappointment but there was a promise of anger that almost stopped him. But he couldn’t. “I am almost twelve years old and you act like I’m just going to break apart if no one is there to look after me. I’m not five anymore. I’ve been trying to do things on my own but you and Dad won’t let me!”

“We have good reason, when we know you can’t be honest to us,” she snapped, crossing her arms and staring him down, not daring to move her head further. 

“You’re happiest when I’m lying, making you think that I’m happy with you or dad or Maz babysitting me. But I wasn’t! I had to beg you to let me come home to be here by myself! Why wouldn’t you let me? Am I not allowed to be more than some little boy?” Face flushed, indignant and voice rising, he blinked hard. “Have you had any problem with me in the past…five months? Before today? No!”

“The problem is you hitting other boys!” she argued, stepping closer to him, her face tightening. “You had no reason to do that–you should’ve walked away–that would’ve been the responsible, grown-up thing!” 

“And how am I to know what’s grown-up, when you treat me like I’m still five years old?” Swallowing around the lump in his throat, smearing his hand over his cheek, he curled his fingers down, fists at his side. “You won’t let me! I’ve been trying to do things on my own and you and dad won’t let me! So if the only way I can prove that I can look out for myself is to lie about one thing–then yes, I’ve lied. I don’t need a babysitter, I can take care of myself!”

“After all this, you will be having a babysitter again! You don’t go around proving yourself this way! This is unacceptable!” Taking a deep breath she tried to relax her posture, only pulling back an inch from standing over him. “I raised you to be better than this. And yet you aren’t.”

“Better? Tell me what better means.” Lips trembling, he struggled to grasp what his mom was implying, about him or what she wanted. “Have you ever been bullied? Have you ever been mocked for having an imaginary friend? For having to go to a doctor every week? When there is nothing physically wrong with me? There is nothing better about me. And today was the first time I’ve felt happy since…since I can remember! I was proud of hitting them.” Feeling tears spill onto his cheeks, he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to have someone less than better and who’s been lying for most of their life. I’m sorry that I’m not the son you want me to be.” 

Heaving hard, the tears dripping further down his face, he turned around, not caring that he didn’t have his runners on. He grabbed the doorknob, twisted it without thinking and bolted out of the house. Made it to the walkway before his mom realised what he was doing.

“Ben? Ben!”

* * *

He didn’t know how long he spent out in the forest. Without a watch on and zero interest in looking at the sun passing over the trees, he first ran and then tried to find the perfect place to hide, stumbling over his sock covered feet, the white blurring into the dirt, brown creeping into most of the fabric. The little pricks of pebbles meant nothing to him when tears and panting breath had his face throbbing. 

When he finally came to a stop, trying to steady himself between trees, climbing over thick brush to get away from the path, he dropped to his knees, pushing himself against the closest tree. He curled his legs up, arms going around his knees. Bowing his head, he cried into his jeans, snuffling and blotting the tears, waiting for all the pain to bleed out. 

At some point he must have fallen asleep, only jolting up with wide eyes when something must’ve caught his unaware mind. The sound of voices, distant as they were, might have been the cause, but he couldn’t know for sure. He didn’t see where they were coming from, and the fact that they weren’t getting louder suggested they hadn’t seen him. 

Little leaves were clinging to his shirt after his desperate run through bushes and past trees. There were a few shallow cuts on the back of his hands where twigs had tried to fight back against him. They didn’t bleed but they hurt like his lip did. A tentative lick showed that it was still cracked open but the copper taste of earlier wasn’t there. 

Pushing himself up to stand, using the tree trunk at his back to steady himself, he looked around slowly. The voices were gone, the ones that he had definitely heard. In his mind he could still hear Matt and Ryan’s taunts. Dreaded to think what would happen when they were back at school next week. 

He was outright horrified to think what his parents would say and do when he got home. Despite the fight with his mom he knew he had to prove that he could be responsible and returning on his own would only play a small part. Sucking on his lip and mustering the courage he picked his way carefully back to the path. It took him several seconds to realise where he was and which way he had to go to get back home. 

The door was unlocked when he carefully turned the doorknob. Pushing the door open slowly to be quiet, he stepped over the threshold, hesitated inside before pulling off his dirty socks. He could hear his parents–oh god, it was both of them–in the kitchen, but he was unable to make out their words. At least his mom had calmed down while he was gone. What would happen when she saw him would be another story.

Spotting the mail on the front table beside the stairs he moved towards it. His dad must have brought it in when he came home. Normally he would’ve let his parents sort the mail but, trying to put off the inevitable, he leafed through the envelopes.

Stared at the envelope that was addressed to him. It wasn’t Uncle Luke or Chewie’s handwriting. The handwriting was small but with precise lines and curves. He dropped the rest of the mail back on the table and opened the envelope. 

He barely got three lines into the letter, reading the apology, when he yelped and bumped into the table lamp. The lamp landed on the ground, somehow not breaking, but the combined noise had his parents running into the hallway, both looking at him. Whether it was for another fight Ben didn’t know and didn’t care, eyes wide and the letter forgotten on the ground. 

“M-mom?” Struggling to push the word out of his mouth, panting again, eyes already brimming, he shook his head. “I think they’re right. I am crazy.”

> _Hi Ben,_
> 
> _I know this comes far too late. I should have tried writing to you sooner. Not only do I apologise for keeping you waiting but I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye._
> 
> _My teacher told me later that she had picked me up from the hospital, telling your dad that she’d be able to take care of me, pay for my treatment and take me home. I had no reason not to believe her. She’s always been honest to me. She’s nice, maybe I should’ve introduced her to you. I think she would’ve liked you._
> 
> _I didn’t know my dad would be so angry. Not that I knew it right away. He was very busy when we got home. And that was the funny thing, he’s never been home from work in the morning, not on a weekday. I thought he had come home right away because he was worried about me. But the house…I don’t know when it happened but everything was being moved out. He told me that work told him that morning that we were moving. Out of state. They needed him to work in a city where they had additional offices. I didn’t have any time to say anything. He took me straight upstairs and told me to start packing all my things into bags._
> 
> _I really wanted to say goodbye to you. And I hope that you know that I didn’t blame you for anything that happened that day. I had a lot of fun. The pain wasn’t fun, I’m not going to lie about that. The pain sucked. My dad told me to suck it up but what can I do?_
> 
> _I’m truly sorry Ben. I never wanted to hurt you._
> 
> _Your Friend,_
> 
> _Hux_


	3. Beyond Fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seventeen-year-old Ben is ready to move forward, but some things, he finds, are worth hanging onto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late chapter but I'm happy to announce that this half of the story is finished. 
> 
> Thank you for kyluxtrashcompactor for helping me along the way but darktenshi17 gets the credit for beta this time around.

The shift down at Subway was a necessary evil. With application letters for college and university being written every weekend in preparation for next year, he would need the money to help finance his way to whichever post secondary school he attended. The only good thing about it was that he didn’t smell like coffee and baked goods, like Finn and Rey did while they worked at the coffee shop down the block. Although, for all the time spent there he smelled of over-saturated pickles and olives, he feared he was next in the line of preserved goods. 

His one weekend shift finished, he was walking home, sweatshirt overtop his work shirt. It wasn’t too cool out, he could’ve managed the shirtsleeves alone, but he didn’t want to be a walking advertisement for the motorists or anyone else who passed him. 

A half hour later he got home. It was a rare Saturday that his dad had to work at the garage and his mom’s schedule required her to attend a teleconference call with the offices in Chicago. He could hear her voice, barely, from the kitchen. Knowing better to interrupt the meeting he shuffled out of his shoes, heading upstairs to dispose of his bag.

Tucked it onto the oversized chair that didn’t fit into the gap at his desk. He eyed the mismatched set, fond of the desk even though nowadays it was cluttered with his computer and various pens. He needed a side table for when he needed space to write. Luckily he could move it around as needed, adjusting the height or position. If he grew anymore he would need to get another chair, which he hoped wouldn’t be necessary. 

He did get some of his homework done yesterday, knowing of his work shift this morning. Except his biology textbook didn’t capture his attention over the need of a shower. The scent of pickle juice was still cloying in his nose.

A few minutes later, turning off the hot spray of water, he could hear his mom’s voice again, this time calling for him. Grabbing for his towel, doing a quick rub down, he tied it around his waist just in time.

She opened the door, looking him over. “How was work?”

“The same.” He shrugged and tried to neaten his hair with his fingers. “Everyone thinks they’re a culinary genius when they tell you what they want on their sub.”

“Does that mean I can ask you to make me a sandwich?” The brief grimace he gave her had her laughing. “I was just checking up on you, no need to pout. I finished my meeting so if you need any help with suggestions on your application letter I’m free.”

“I should be okay.” His mom stepping out of the doorway meant he could squeeze past. 

“Is this for the school that Poe is going to?”

“I told you, I’m not applying there.” As much as he missed Poe he didn’t want to rely on his friend to help settle in. He’d been managing for the past three months, he could probably manage it for a full year. It’s not like he didn’t see him around summer break. In a few weeks it would be Thanksgiving and he’d be back bugging him. “But when I have it done I could do with you proofreading it.”

“I’ll get my red pen ready now.” Watching him cross the hall to his room she nodded before leaving. 

Quickly putting on clean clothes he mentally prepared himself for writing his latest application letter. It wasn’t like his letters varied all that much but sometimes the question posed by the school was different. Luckily it all came down on how to sell his version of the answer out of the hundreds of letters they received and as his English teacher told him, he was one his best. He knew he could pull it off.

He didn’t necessarily need Poe to bolster him. He could admit it would be nice to go to a school where he knew someone, and he knew that was what his parents hoped for, especially since he wasn’t planning on staying in state. He didn’t have any friends in his grade, contrary to what Matt and Ryan thought. He didn’t know what made them think he was their friend but in grade ten they started treating him like he was their buddy. The repeated cold shoulder he gave them eventually cooled off their attempts.

His parents found comfort in keeping all possibilities in the known realm. If he wasn’t going to go to the closest college, staying in Michigan was their preference, where getting home would be a matter of hours, three or four at the most, and without need of an airplane or greyhound ticket. They knew that his friendship with Poe, despite having some rocky patches, remained solid. 

Later that night, after his mom had made a few suggestions for his letter, he returned to his room. Lying on his bed, music playing low, he leafed through a series of letters. Unsent since he never did find an address to send them to.

* * *

As an eleven-year-old Ben had imagined he fought with the ferocity of a dozen knights. In hindsight he probably looked more like an oversized three-year-old having a tantrum, all flailing limbs as he tried to escape his dad’s arms. The worst part was he wasn’t successful. His dad wasn’t angry, and more amazing than that, his mom wasn’t. She was angry about their original fight but they could understand his need to hide the letter in his room.

In the end he relinquished the envelope to them. It left him so proud to know that Hux remembered his address after all those years. However there was no return address on the envelope and no other treasures but the letter that had been inside it. His parents thought it might be best to take the envelope to the police department but allowed him to keep the letter. It later turned out that the officer who visited them five years previously wanted the letter, first to look at it for himself, to see if it held any clues. He did ask to take a photo of the letter so he could use it as potential evidence.

Ben had learned earlier not to hope for the best. It would only lead to disappointment. Keeping the letter was the only thing he wanted, to know that Hux did reach out for him. He was out there, somewhere, thinking of him. 

Dr. Greene was quite understanding when he next saw her. He dreaded to think of how disappointed she would be in him. His mom had already grounded him for two weeks, for the lying, getting into the fight at school and running away. Ben didn’t try protesting, not wanting to upset her any further, and was surprised when she turned out to be understanding despite the punishment she doled out. Whether his mom had discussed what to do with him with Dr. Green he didn’t know.

Whether all three decided to enroll him in karate classes or if it was his parents’ idea was another question of dubious merit. That it was at the same studio that Rey trained at, and his class was an hour before Rey’s, was an injustice he couldn’t stand for. It didn’t help that no matter how hard he pushed himself she always remained that little bit better than him, even with practise outside of class to move up the two belt rankings to take classes with her. She was delighted to have a friend taking class with her, Finn significantly less enthused. Finn would’ve been greatly reassured that it wasn’t an interest of Ben’s own, that he wasn’t spurning him any more than he already did. 

Karate classes aside his parents didn’t reinforce old rules despite his transgressions. He’d been prepared to go back to being babysat by Maz or his parents but after the two weeks of being grounded he was allowed to return to coming home to a house without supervision. Some things had changed, taking on a sport and new exercises assigned by Dr. Greene, but after school he would return home to do his homework and chores. 

When he wasn’t busy, left alone in his bedroom, he would reread Hux’s letter. 

Whenever he was inspired, by good thoughts or sad ones, he would date a piece of paper and start writing his own letters for Hux. In his mind they were pen pal friends, writing and sending letters back and forth. The only difference was, instead of putting them in a mailbox, he slid the spiral notebooks into the gap between bed and wall. 

A tradition he still held up to.

*

“How are your application letters going?”

Out of everyone in his grade Phasma was one step above classmate. He was reluctant to call her a friend, seeing as he didn’t spend time with her outside of school. Yet when it came to the classes they shared together they sat at neighbouring desks or chairs and any projects, in partners or groups, they teamed together. 

Ben looked up from the notes he was writing, first to check that the substances were reacting in the petri dish, then glancing to her across their workspace. “I’ve submitted two. How about you?”

“I’m finishing up my drafts for two.” She added two drops to the petri dish while he wrote out the reaction, adding notes as they observed. “But all my letters are just going over the same thing, all the schools want to hear the same thing.”

“The good thing is that they won’t be comparing your letters,” Ben commented, humming in near amusement.

“The only thing they would be concerned about is which one of them will be getting all of my money.”

“No scholarship?”

“I am applying to one school that’s offered a volleyball scholarship. I’ll probably go with them if my first-choice falls through,” Phasma explained, pulling out the next dropper she pre-filled when the lab started. 

Their lab ran the course perfectly, which would be confirmed when their teacher read their submitted notes and results after the class. Ben never thought he would’ve enjoyed chemistry as much as he did but it was pretty straightforward, and anything he didn’t understand he and Phasma could puzzle out together. 

Normally they would both take a left upon leaving the classroom but today Phasma headed right. He had to step out of the way of several younger girls before stopping. “Are you heading for lunch?” Ben called after her. 

“I have to go to the library first, I’ll meet up with you there,” she explained, hand easily stretching over the heads over everyone else to shoo him away with a familiar but friendly waggle.

Seated at their usual table, his homemade sandwich in his hands, he started to take a bite. Thwarted when hands slid over his eyes. They were smaller than Phasma’s but he recognised them, knowing what they looked like every time they latched onto him in a karate throw. “I’d rather not smear this all over my face because I can’t see it,” he mentioned, forcing a lightness to his voice he didn’t feel.

Rey dropped to the bench to his left, offering him a quick smile. “Can I sit with you?” she asked, sliding her own lunch bag into place before her.

He shrugged, chewing and swallowing slowly. “Phasma will be here in a few minutes. She needed to go to the library first.”

Her smiled faded but she kept her voice pleasant. “That will be fine.”

He took a quick bite when Phasma and Finn approached the table from opposite directions. Phasma didn’t seem to care but Finn, with remarkable restraint, managed to neither flinch or glare. Ben had never asked Rey what the issue was between Phasma and Finn. Not wanting to make Rey think he was concerned about Finn, and not about to ask Phasma too many questions, he continued to remain silent on the subject.

“Did you find what you needed?” Ben asked instead. 

“I needed to book a time to read the reference books being held for Biology AP.” Expression easy she hitched her shoulder slightly, the one that Finn distanced himself from. “I’ll be doing that tomorrow at lunch.”

Ben cleared his throat and then took a gulp of his water, avoiding acknowledging the pointed look Finn gave Rey. Otherwise he’d be tempted to smile. “I won’t be overly lonely without you.”

“Distance does make the heart grow fonder,” Phasma commented, grinning for him. They chatted over lunch, discussing the rest of the school-day and weekend plans, Finn and Rey finishing their food quickly and leaving.

The next day Rey and Finn sat across from him, eying each other quietly when they weren’t giving him bemused looks.

“Do you… and Phasma – actually like each other?” It sounded like the words were vile in Finn’s mouth, his face screwed up in distaste. 

“We’re friendly to each other,” Ben explained, shrugging his hands out before cupping them together. He cursed himself for his dad’s habit, something that he was quickly adopting. “I might be going to the movies with a few of her friends.”

Rey spoke louder to cover up Finn’s audible shudder. “So she’s not your girlfriend.”

“Hardly. We’re going out in a group of friends, and I’m not interested in her that way,” he added, picking up the last wedge of orange from the makeshift bowl he made from its peel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Finn asked. When he cocked his head in Finn’s direction Finn paused, lips pressing together. “Are you saying that to mean you don’t like Phasma in that way, or is that a reference to… girls in general?”

He hadn’t expected that question and wasn’t even sure what his answer could be. Angling his hand away to support his chin, he considered his time spent at school and work, even the times spent at the dojo. People stood out to him for how they approached him. If they were friendly to him he would talk to them but he wasn’t inclined to make new friends. He was accustomed to his not-quite friendship with Finn and Rey and Phasma was welcome in her own way. Yet he didn’t feel any impulses, let alone romantic thoughts, towards girls or boys.

“I’ve never had a crush on anyone so I can’t give you an answer based on that,” he replied at last, shrugging his shoulder once he set his hand back on the table. 

“Maybe you’re just not giving yourself the opportunity.” When he cast his gaze to Rey, following her suggestion, silently questioning further, she continued. “I’ve never seen you make the first move to befriending anyone, and mostly – aside from a handful of people – you’re closed off. How can you decide who you do and don’t like when you’re your own obstacle?”

Rey and Finn were both forced to look up when he stood. At that moment he wished that the benches weren’t fixed solidly to the tables, wanting the dramatic and loud surge of movement to match the indignancy swelling in him. 

“How about you decide that for me,” Ben stated, grabbing his bag and garbage and striding away.

* * *

As it was he went to the movies with Phasma and her friends, even though the movie wasn’t of any interest to him. It turned out Mitaka wasn’t as dull as he thought he was, though Thannison was pretty forgettable. 

He wouldn’t tell Phasma he decided to come just so he could casually bring it up over lunch if Rey and Finn dropped by their lunch table again. 

He was over an hour into his conversation with Poe. The only reason he routinely phoned him was due to Poe’s phone plan while at university.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why Finn is so…” He couldn’t think of the right word, racking his brain while searching his room for the book he’d been reading earlier in the week, before homework piled up closer to the weekend. “Pissed off with Phasma all the time?”

“It has something to do with his freshman year but he hasn’t told me all the details, it upsets him too much.” 

“I won’t ask him, or Rey, about it. But it does make lunches annoying when they decide to join us.” Finding his book, but not about to end the phone call, he settled down on his bed, leaning against his pillows. “So how long will you be in town for the holidays?”

“I should be there for a day and a bit,” Poe explained. He wished he could see Poe now, rather than only hearing his voice. Needed to know how he looked, if he was trying to multitask as he often tried. Wanted to see his smile. The only thing he could tell was that Poe was chagrined. “Travelling home from Chicago on Friday but I will be there for all of Saturday. I’ll be taking the bus back to school Sunday afternoon.” 

“Think we can get together on Saturday?” Ben asked, squeezing the phone tighter. 

“As long as you don’t mind sharing me with Rey and Finn.”

This time he could hear his smirk and struggled to not groan. “Can we not? I’m sure they have curfews, they can have you for the afternoon. We can do something at night.”

“But daaaad, mom said you’d be sharing custodial rights in the divorce settlement.”

“Okay.” Ben shook his head, not sure if he was indulging Poe or if he was actually somewhat amused. “Maybe they can be tolerable when they haven’t been incited by Phasma.”

“It would probably help if you didn’t always spend your lunch hour with her.”

“I see they also use you as their mediator.” Tilting his head up he stared at the ceiling, bare like it always had been. At least he decorated parts of his walls, a movie poster of Lord of the Rings Poe bought him at the foot of his bed. “But don’t be surprised if I leave early. My mom is still planning for undisclosed events.”

“Is your Uncle coming up?”

“Not for Thanksgiving. He’ll be here for Christmas.”

“Then it will be me fighting to get time with you.” Ben’s heart warmed up at the fond tone in Poe’s voice, and not for any insinuations Finn and Rey had made earlier that week. The two months apart showed just how much he took his friend for granted. “Okay, I’ve got to run. I’m meeting up with friends in… twenty minutes. I need to make it look like I haven’t been napping for most of the afternoon.” 

“Okay, talk to you later.”

Leaving his book on the bed, but bringing the phone back to his parent’s room, he decided to shuffle his way downstairs to see what his parents were doing. They were watching something on the television, show or movie he didn’t know. “I’m done with the phone.” 

“How is Poe?” his mom asked, glancing over to where he stood in the entrance to the family room. 

“Aside from the fact that he slept most of the day, good.” At his mom’s arched eyebrow he elaborated with a faint smile. “He’s been staying up late to get essays and projects completed before the break. He needed to crash today.”

“You better not be doing the same thing next year,” she commented, her expression lightening a fraction.

“It’s not my plan.” He considered turning away, heading back upstairs to read a bit, but paused. “Is there anything important we’d be doing the Saturday after Thanksgiving? Poe will be back from Chicago, was hoping to spend time with him then.”

“No, you’re free for the Saturday,” she reassured him.

“Thanks.” With another glance to the television, the action on the screen having not appeared to change much when he first entered, he shrugged. “I’m heading back upstairs.”

In his pyjamas and under the sheets, overhead lights on and book in his hands, he made himself comfortable. A small part wondered what he could be doing tonight, if he hadn’t talked to Poe – if he had friends to go out with. If he had gone on a date. 

Letting his mind wander, to faces of people he talked to in class, trying to come up with features he found attractive, he found himself drawing a blank. Rey and Finn flickered on the periphery, Phasma and her friends briefly considered, before he refocused on the pages in front of him. 

Exhaling slowly he began reading.

* * *

He counted down to Thanksgiving week, counting the schooldays and the work shifts. He picked up two extra shifts but other than that there wasn’t much else he filled his time with. There were pieces of schoolwork, which he finished at the beginning of the week. More parts of applying to university that he worked on. He almost wished that Uncle Luke could’ve come down for a surprise visit. Instead he spent night after night watching the football his dad was glued to. 

Saturday morning he went over to Poe’s house, arriving ten minutes earlier than he was expected. 

The only relief was that Poe was the one throwing himself at him, hugging his midsection tight. 

“Have you gotten taller?” Craning his head up Poe grinned. “You’ve gotten taller.”

“Or the old man has shrunk,” Ben countered, glad that he was well out of reach of the hand that tried to swat the side of his head. 

“Let’s see how well you’ll fare the midterm crunch at university next year. Maybe you’ll be four inches shorter then.” 

“I’ll still be taller than you.” Ben smiled, circling his arms around Poe’s shoulder’s when Poe hugged him again. “You’ll have to settle for being taller than Rey.”

“Considering she can still beat me in a fist fight, that’s not a comfort.” Keeping one arm slung around him, Poe brought him into the house. “I’m guessing you haven’t seen my parents since the summer. Just because I’m not around means you can’t visit them. They miss you.”

“It’s… a little strange seeing them without you around,” Ben admitted, ducking his head even though he cleared the doorway easily. 

Luckily conversation inside was easy, Ben overcoming his awkwardness for the fifteen minutes they chatted waiting for Rey and Finn. Rather than knock on the door Finn ran into the house, Rey on his heels. Ben nearly protested Finn knocking him slightly aside for rushing up to hug Poe. 

“Poe!” A little bit of his chest tensed when he noticed how readily Poe and Finn could lean into each other, their heights compatible, their heads tucked together. “It’s good to have you back! We missed you.”

“Missed you too buddy.” Clapping his hand between Finn’s shoulder, he pulled back enough to free his other arm, throwing it out to loop around Rey’s shoulder once she was at their side. “It’s great seeing both of you.”

“I’ve missed you,” Rey greeted, trying to get her arms around Poe. She did peek a glance around his shoulder, beaming when she saw his mom. “Hi Mrs. Dameron, hi Mr. Dameron.”

“I’ve told you, you can call me Shara,” Poe’s mom reassured her. 

Rey, catching her smile, and her husband nodding with a smile of his own, started again. “Hi Shara, hi Kes.”

“You kids have fun,” Poe’s dad wove to them, when Rey and Finn dragged Poe from the room and towards the front of the house. 

Ben turned to follow them, glad Poe’s parents saw the back of his head and not the smile fading away. 

*

He wanted to hit something.

Instead he was out in the snow, dragging his feet through the scant inch that covered the leaves and dead grass. Flakes were settling in his hair, having left his wool hat at home. He decided an evening walk would be nice, enjoying the first snowfall, late in the season. It was the first week of December, for all purposes it was acceptable for snow to be coming down. He helped to clean up after dinner, schoolwork done in the afternoon. He spent longer on his walk than he intended, making his way through the trails he could travel in his sleep. He was on his way home, knowing that it was pushing nine o’clock. His curfew wasn’t until eleven but he wasn’t going to be late when he still had school the following day.

He entered the house to hear a familiar tune playing loud from the family room. 

His mom had to be in the kitchen, determined to watch her show. She might not be able to see the television but she’d make sure she could hear the details as it began. 

Sure enough he saw the opening credits for CSI coming to an end when he entered the kitchen. She was carrying coffee, a decaf, to the chair she normally sat in, settling in to watch the episode. 

“I know I take Chemistry, AP Chemistry at that, but this… isn’t this reaching?” Ben asked, settling on the armrest of the sofa. 

“I’m not on expert on forensics, but they do use all of this now, in real life crime solving, when evidence can be gathered from a crime scene,” his mom pointed out once she took a sip, setting her mug on the table beside her. 

Ben shrugged, gesturing to the television. “Let’s face it though, they find their killer in what is portrayed to be two or three days. That part is definitely unrealistic.”

“They only have an hour per episode,” she pointed out, smirking when he gave her a look. “I know it doesn’t work that way, but this is fiction. Reality is entirely different. And sometimes not all crimes are solved.”

Brushing his fingers through his hair, frowning for the dampness of melted snowflakes, Ben stood up. “It is better than football, but don’t tell dad that I said that.”

“He already knows your feelings on that,” she commented, seemingly ready to add more, but the commercials finished, returning to the show. “Now leave me to my guilty pleasure.”

“The young handsome men or unrealistic timelines?”

“Shush!”

* * *

The closer Christmas got the more hopeful Ben was the next reunion would be. Poe continued to stay on his mind but thinking about his uncle was surprisingly comforting. In grade eight his mom suggested he’d be more interested in attending Luke’s boarding school in Colorado for his high school years. Luckily Ben was able to persuade her, with Luke’s assistance, that it wasn’t what he wanted or needed. She thought that getting him away from Matt and Ryan would be best but more than them Ben wanted to stay close with Poe.

His mocking snort was not quiet enough to slip past her attention, even if she was closing the trunk of her car. He was laden down with most of her shopping bags, six compared to the two she carried in addition to her purse.

“Who all were you buying for?” Ben decided to ask, knowing that she’d be buying for him, dad and Uncle Luke. Maybe there was something happening at her office for Christmas, a Secret Santa or donations for a Christmas charity. 

“That is meant to be a surprise,” she stated, purse bobbing on her wrist when she pointed a finger at him, more teasing than warning. “Help me take these up to my office.”

Once free of the bags he stood in the hallway, considering his own shopping list. He wasn’t a fan of shopping, just like his father, but unlike his dad who would be out at the last minute buying things, he at least got to the malls early in the season so he wouldn’t have to deal with the crowds. His gifts for his dad and mom were in his bedroom closet alongside Poe’s. Sore as he still was he and Poe had always exchanged gifts; he had bought a few things, more in line to a care package to take to school with him. Two rolls of quarters and a kettle to replace the one he broke a week ago.

He still needed to buy something for his Uncle. Maybe he could stop in at the mall during the week.

“When will Uncle Luke be arriving?” he asked his mom, already having set one foot on the stairs to go back down.

“He’ll be here the last day of school,” she replied, smiling before proceeding. 

That didn’t sound bad at all. He could spend most of his time with family and spend a few day with Poe. More if Poe would agree that they could have at least one day where they could do something together without Rey and Finn tagging along. Maybe work a couple of extra days at Subway. He’d be happy when summer came and he’d get to say goodbye to the job.

Yet that was seven months down the road. Much sooner, a week later, Uncle Luke was waking in the guest bedroom, rough from the late flight and the drive from the airport. 

“Hey,” Ben greeted with a cup of coffee that he offered his Uncle. He heard him making his way down the stairs and had poured it just in time when he entered the kitchen. 

Pushing the sleeve of his grey housecoat up to take the mug properly, he patted him with his free hand. “I’m surprised you’re up this early.” 

“I have to get to work in half an hour,” Ben explained, sliding his dirty plate into the dishwasher. “I’m on my way now but I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“I don’t want to make you late.” Giving his shoulder one last squeeze Luke went to the table, finding breakfast staggered around the piles of the newspaper his dad was going through. 

“I wish you could,” Ben called, expression wry before he waved goodbye.

Not being overly close to any shopping centres, the plaza where the Subway was located occupied by a grocery store and small stores that didn’t concern most Christmas shoppers, his shift was slow with the occasional rush of customers from eleven on. Mid-afternoon, punching out, he was walking home with another light snowfall. It was enough to cover up the ice that had started forming a few days early so he had to tread carefully.

Luke was fully awake when he got home. He didn’t see or hear his mom, but his Uncle was busy, placing presents under the tree. “Is my mom out shopping?”

“She’s upstairs wrapping.” Luke put the last of the boxes under the tree, straightening up. “I’m the spark that lights the fire under her to get her finished with her presents.”

Ben grinned but didn’t join him in the family room. He still needed to shower and change. “She’s still a huge improvement over my dad.”

“I’ll be working on him tomorrow.”

“But he won’t be shopping until next Sunday.”

“Will you be spending any time with Poe?” Luke asked, making his way to the couch and sitting down, claiming the cup of coffee he didn’t see until now. 

“Maybe.” His smile faded a little. “He’ll have some relatives over, and he also has his friends back in town to catch up with.” 

Luke took a sip before looking up. “You’ll be doing that next year too.”

“Yeah, but…” Ben didn’t want to acknowledge that he wanted Poe to pay attention to him now. That next year the only friend he’d be reconnecting with would still be him. “He’ll be here in a few days, not a year from now.”

“Time is a strange thing. Perception can make it appear like things are happening too fast, or that everything is dragging out.” With a knowing glance, kind and unaccusing, Luke tilted his head. “I remember when you used to dread seeing me.”

“I dreaded the car trips,” Ben reassured him, amusement creeping into his voice. “My legs stopped finding any comfortable position in the backseat when I was twelve.”

“You didn’t get that from your mom’s side of the family – myself included,” Luke commented, adjusting his grip on his coffee. “Speaking of uncomfortable, I can imagine you want to get out of that uniform. I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

* * *

Christmas didn’t change from year to year. The only difference was awaiting Poe’s arrival. Being fooled into hanging out with him in addition to Rey and Finn was still par for the course. The upside was that he did get to spend time with Luke and he purposely gave himself the break to not think or work on school applications. 

He was pretty sure he was still digesting the Christmas dinner New Year’s Eve. There was enough food to feed a family of ten when it was only the four of them seated at the table. Despite their efforts to get Chewie to join them for Christmas dinner he always preferred spending time with his own family.

Another lunch of leftover turkey, sandwich lightly touched up with cranberry sauce, was more than sufficient to tide him over until the late dinner, the last of the year.

At least this meal was never too big. 

“No plans for tonight?” his dad asked once the dishwasher was loaded, whirring in the background. They were seated in the family room, television off for the time being. It wouldn’t be long until his mom turned it on to watch the festivities. 

“Poe invited me out but I would’ve been with his friends from his grade. I barely know them,” Ben explained after drinking a bit of his hot chocolate. 

“You realise you’re going to have to meet your own people next year, right?” His dad was watching him with a lazy smile but his gaze showed a flicker of concern. 

“I’ll be ready for that when it happens,” Ben said, switching his gaze to the fire crackling in the hearth. They usually didn’t use the fireplace unless it was around the holidays, all four of them together. “Besides, I need to be ready to play Scrabble with Uncle Luke.” 

“Are you encouraging my nephew to break tradition?” Luke asked with a raised eyebrow, drinking his slightly spiked hot chocolate. 

“Oh no, I don’t want to break the honoured Skywalker tradition.” Han chuckled before sipping his whiskey. “Are we setting up now?”

Half an hour later, with a band he didn’t pay attention to performing on the television, his gaze shifting between his tiles and the gameboard, Ben laid out all his tiles into position, drawing a groan and smile from his Uncle. 

In the back of his mind he reminded himself this was his last full year he’d be home with his family. 

This was the way he wanted to celebrate before stepping into a new year.

*

The thoughts of a new year didn’t inspire him to make resolutions. He was more practical than that, or so he liked to think. He didn’t need one single day to make himself better. If he wanted to make a change he could do so at any time. He just chose not to do it. He didn’t blame that on his mom or dad, his stubbornness was his own trait, in good and bad.

He did decide that if or when Phasma invited him to go out with friends that he would accept. He called it preparing for a new city and school.

Yet by the end of January, feeling drained for reasons he couldn’t label, he was using the last page in one of his spiral notebooks, writing out all the ways he felt tired. He needed a nonjudgmental ear to talk to, a shoulder to lean on, but he couldn’t drag himself downstairs to his mom. He didn’t want to phone up Poe. He remained on his bed, slate coloured skies peeking through the blinds of his window.

The phone rang

Tensing he waited. Chances were slim that the phone was for him. Phasma didn’t have his number. He understood why Poe didn’t normally phone. And Finn and Rey normally saw him at school. He couldn’t think of any reason why they’d be phoning on a Wednesday night.

The house was quiet again. He assumed his mom was talking with whoever was on the line. Colleague or friend, it was no concern to him. Cursive resumed, a decorative touch to an ordinary notebook. It curled out in time with his thoughts and feelings, spreading out of him and onto the paper. Fluid and gentle in a world that demanded faster, more output for less-

“Ben?” His mom’s voice had a sharp tone to go with the louder pitch, as though she had been trying to catch his attention for a while. 

Attempting to cover the page with his hand, and mostly succeeding, he looked over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway. “Ah, sorry. What do you need?” he asked, twisting and sitting up.

She settled against the doorframe, hesitating, a light exhale on her lips. “That was the police on the phone.”

“Dad?” But that wasn’t right, he was downstairs with her, or at least before she came up. Unless something happened earlier in the day. 

“No, they wanted to know – if we had anything that belonged to the Huxes.” She frowned slightly but he recognised the look for her thinking. “I told him that I don’t have anything but there’d be a chance you have something.”

Hux’s letter wasn’t in the notebook he was writing in. Over five years since he first started writing his letters he was up to six notebooks, the book and letter concealed from his mom’s apologetic gaze. “Do they need the letter? They can’t keep it, it’s mine – they can look at it but they have to give it back.”

“Croix said we can bring it over at any time tomorrow.” She stepped back when he stood up, crossing swiftly to exit his room. He was running down the stairs when she yelled. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got something else that might work. It better work.” She was down in the front hall while he sat on the bottom step of the stairs. He had pulled his boots off the rack, hastily tying them up. 

“In the garage?”

“At Finn’s.” Standing up, he bit his lip. “I hope.”

She took his place at the foot of the stairs when he moved to the door. The cold wind blew in but he didn’t step out yet. “That’s impossible.”

“Hopefully not.” 

Running around to Finn’s street, breath a thick curl in the air when he stopped in front of the door, he waited a half second before knocking. He had never paid a visit to Finn before but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

A face that clearly was accustomed to smiling greeted him but confusion replaced the friendly air. “How can I help you?”

Ben gave Finn’s dad a rueful look. “I know it’s late, but I need to speak to Finn.”

“One moment.” Turning slightly, throwing his voice louder in the direction of what Ben knew was the kitchen, he motioned for Ben to come in. “I wouldn’t call this sweater weather.”

“I live a block from here, and it’s important,” Ben explained, unable to not stop sounding apologetic, or sheepish. He thought he could be fast but this didn’t seem to be the case. 

“Really?” A hint of a chuckle accompanied the question. 

“Yeah dad – Ben?” Finn’s eyes widened where he had stopped from the edge of the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you still have that baseball?” 

“I am not playing when it’s twenty out.” Finn’s gaze, as well as his dad’s, turned incredulous. “That’s what you came here for?”

“I need the baseball.” He really didn’t want to tell the whole story to Finn and his dad. It’s likely they didn’t know anything about the Huxes. It’s not like they killed anyone in the house, there was no need to warn the new homebuyers all those years ago. It was just an ancient credit fraud slash monetary case that for some reason someone wanted to dig up. “The one that came with the house? Do you still have it?”

“I probably have it upstairs.” Finn kept a wary look on him, moving around his dad to get to the stairs. “You need it now?” 

“I’ll need it for tomorrow, probably sooner rather than later,” Ben explained, watching as Finn went up the stairs. Leaving him with his dad who was decidedly frowning at him, arms crossed to show off thickly muscled arms. Ben attempted to explain himself, began to blubber, before pressing his lips together. “Itsuh…” Taking a deep breath, Ben let his shoulders slump. “It used to be mine, but I gave it to the boy who used to live here – who-” A shiver racking through his body, he swallowed in vain against his tight throat. “He moved away, left the ball here. It’s… important to me.”

“Why didn’t you ask for the ball earlier?” Finn’s dad didn’t move his arms but his gaze lightened a fraction. “Ten or eleven years ago?”

Finn came down the stairs, the ball in his hand. Ben was about to take it when it was offered to him but he hesitated. “Has anyone else used the ball?”

“Just me.” Finn looked aside to his dad, a hint of a smirk at the edge of his mouth. “My dad is better with a football.”

Ben took the ball gently between the very tips of his fingers, tucking it quickly into his sweater pocket. He really hoped he wouldn’t need to ask Finn about getting tagged for fingerprints. Maybe he’d be lucky and Finn was already in the system. Not that Finn had ever committed a crime or would. He just didn’t want to make this any more weird than it already was. “Thanks. I’ll be on my way now.” 

Back outside the cold didn’t help his flush, or nerves. He walked slowly, fraught with all the worst outcomes. He would take the letter tomorrow but he would fight tooth and nail to keep it. Yet Finn’s dad’s question echoed in his mind. 

Why now? Eleven years later?

Shuddering around the dread in his stomach he made his way home.

* * *

They went to the police station. Detective Croix still looked the same, despite the eleven years of aging. He looked dubiously at the baseball before requesting the letter. 

Ben gnawed on the inside of his cheek for the twenty minutes Croix looked over the paper. Cringed when he dusted it and lifted prints off of it. Ben wouldn’t have been surprised if most of the fingerprints were his own. But maybe he would find something of use from it and gather the evidence. Then let him take it home. 

His prayers were answered when he took the letter home with him, folded gently in his history textbook before returning to his backpack. 

Croix never explained what he needed it for. No one phoned them the next week, or through February, in follow up.

Ben decided the less he heard from them the better. It wasn’t like they could help with the case. 

March was a wet month, still hanging on doggedly to unleash a winter storm that snowed out school for two days. The tail end was no kinder. The weather was slowly getting warmer but it rained normally twice a week. 

Ben hoped for more sun in April. It was sporadic at best but he received the acceptance letter from the university he was hoping to attend. He showed off the letter to his mom who was delighted, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was already counting down the weeks until he was gone.

His answer didn’t change no matter how often Finn and Rey asked him about prom. He didn’t see the point about going when he didn’t have anyone to go the party with. As it was, even with Phasma’s invitation to hang out with her and Mitaka, he had agreed in advance to work that night for extra pay. 

It was a quiet night at home. He finished the last of his homework after dinner and was studying Chemistry when he distantly heard the phone ring. Not bothering to look up from his textbook he wrote down his answer to the end of chapter questions, satisfied that he didn’t need to consult his class notes or text to know he was right.

“Ben!”

“Tell Rey I’m not interested.” She was the only person to phone him and that was his default greeting for her, or at least the one he gave his mom when she answered.

He knew there was a huff before his mom called up to him again. “It’s not her!”

He debated going down to get the phone but not wanting to deal with her impatience he went into his parents’ room. Picking up and turning on that phone, with a quick “Hello?” he heard the beep of his mom hanging up. 

A female was on the other end, a voice that he didn’t recognise. “Is this Ben Solo?”

“Uh, yes, speaking.” He hesitated to sit on the bed, instead shuffled out into the hallway.

“How old are you?” 

At one point he thought it could be someone phoning from school, or from the university, but they would know his age. “Seventeen.”

There was a rustle from the other end, and two other voices trying to be quiet in the background. “May I please speak again to Leia Organa?”

Changing his trajectory, one foot already inside his bedroom, he stopped at the top of the stairs. “Why can’t you talk to me?” 

The voice closest to the receiver, the woman who continued to talk, shushed the others. “We need to discuss this with your mother as well as you.”

Once down in the family room, his mom muting the television, he cocked his head, first to the phone then his mom. “They want to talk to both of us.” 

His dad shook his head, unable to follow the proceedings. None of them could, based on the bemused look Ben shared with his mom. “What’s going on?” he asked him.

Ben followed his mom into the kitchen, television turned off when ten minutes later the call continued. His dad waited nearby, uninvited but curious of the serious looks, and words being spoken over speakerphone. 

When the lady on the phone requested to speak to Han in addition to them, the family looked to each other.

* * *

They were offered a driver to pick them up from home but trying to keep some element of personal choice his parents declined. The unexpectedness of the evening, verging on impossible, seemed like a ridiculous prank. His parents wanted to leave right away if this was the farce they thought it was. If Han drove them to the airport they could leave whenever they wanted. 

Under most circumstances he would’ve been shifting around in the backseat, trying to get his legs comfortable. Now he was motionless, his mind doing all the racing. 

Pulling up through to domestic arrivals, an individual stood in the foremost lane, behind a marked vehicle. Motioning for his dad to lower the window a man eased down a bit to look inside. “Are you the Organa – Solo family?” 

“Yes,” his dad acknowledged with a nod. “Can you tell us what-”

“We can explain more when we’re inside. But if you follow us we can take you to parking that has been cordoned off for us, no parking fees.” The man gave them a smile before returning to the other car. With the lights flashing they were able to drive straight through, uninterrupted by travellers eager to get home.

“Why do you need us for arresting Brendol Hux?” his mom asked once they were away from the crowds, past terminals and luggage pick-ups. The hall they were in was lined with small rooms, though what purpose they served Ben didn’t know. 

“We don’t need your help with him, but your presence has been requested – Ben’s presence. However since you are a minor you required accompaniment by one of your parents.” The same agent who hailed them outside accompanied them, gesturing from Ben then to his dad. “Han Solo was also requested.” 

Ben wanted to ask questions, but the lump in his throat was too much of a hindrance. Even if he could find his voice he’d only be repeating the name that was chanting in his head. 

They stopped at last, the man opening an unlocked door. “He’s here?” Ben asked at last, whisper soft. 

The man had been nothing but professional but his expression softened, hand pulling away from the doorknob and almost reaching for his arm. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Ben went inside, followed by his dad and mom. Inside a woman was seated in a chair that actually looked comfortable, upholstered and soft unlike the chairs that filled the lounges and dining sections elsewhere in the airport. Another chair and a two-seater couch also furnished the room, along with a low table. Two cups of coffee waited on it, which his parents took once they were seated. 

A few minutes later someone brought in a bottle of water. He jolted up as soon as the doorknob twisted but lowered himself back onto the couch, unable to relax under his dad’s arm. He pulled the label off the bottle, broke the seam of the cap with his thumb but didn’t open it. 

The next time the doorknob made a noise he lifted his eyes, heart in his throat and eyes, the burn threatening to suffocate him. 

He was unaware of getting to his feet when an agent gently took one narrow shoulder under his hand, squeezing before stepping aside, leaving room for someone else to enter. 

He saw the hobble of a poorly healed leg. His eyes blurred before he could distinguish features, only seeing long red hair as the person rushed him. 

Ben couldn’t stop the sob that escaped him when his arms came up to mirror the ones that surrounded him, or the fact that the red hair brushed against his cheek, a perfect fit. 

“Hux?” 

“Thank you.” It was his voice. Tightening his arms more Ben refused to let go. If it was too tight Hux didn’t complain, a watery laugh escaping him. Not quite the laugh he remembered. They were older, changed, but here they were, standing in the same room, hanging on to each other. Once adrift but finding their anchor. “Thank you for coming, I wasn’t sure if you would come. It… it would’ve sounded ridiculous, I can’t imagine.” 

“I wish you told me where you were,” Ben murmured, uncaring if the strangers or his parents heard him. 

“I didn’t even know where I was.” Ben didn’t want to think about what that meant. That the kid who he played with in his backyard never got to spend another day outside his house, wherever it may be. That getting that letter into the mail was a risk he was willing to take. “My dad… if it were up to him I never would’ve left the house. The letter incident, my teacher had no choice. It was the second last time I got to leave a house. My dad moved us again and then...”

He could feel Hux tensing against him, shaking his head. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain it to me.” Even though tears stuck his hair to his face Ben straightened up, shifting to look at Hux, blue eyes red with exhaustion and tears of his own. “You’re back in Michigan, that’s all that matters. You won’t ever have to see your dad again.” 

Hux shook his head, ducking his gaze away. “I wish it was that easy.”

“Your dad was arrested for credit fraud – or whatever it was,” Ben reassured him, fingers flexing on Hux’s back. “He’s going away for a long time.”

Ben wasn’t prepared for Hux to shake his head again. A flutter of eyelashes and more tears spilled from his eyes. “I’m going away too,” he said after a gulp and swallow. 

“You’ve not done anything wrong, your dad did.” Only aware of his parents now, catching his mom squished in beside his dad to get a better view of him and Hux, still not letting go of each other, kept him from bringing his hand up to Hux’s face. “Why he had to keep you locked up in your own house is just cruelty. If he wasn’t going to jail already I’d lock him up for you.” 

Hux struggled to breathe, starting to lean in again. It was his breath, close to his ear, and his words, shaky and soft, that had Ben nearly locking in place. 

“I’m not supposed to be here.”

Even if he wanted to move his arms he was sure he couldn’t. He certainly didn’t want to let go of Hux, now that he was here. “What do you mean?” 

Hux shifted his arms until one hand was on Ben’s arm, a wordless request for him to follow him towards the couch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mom return to the chair. His dad shuffled along, not letting go of her hands. It was a little cramped, three men to the short couch, but Hux didn’t complain, therefore he had no reason to say anything about it. 

“My…” In order to sit they broke off the hug completely but Ben took Hux’s hand when he faltered. Squeezed it when Hux’s lips flattened, an ugly look quickly flashing across his face. “Brendol, my dad, he has several charges pressed against him. The credit fraud, illegal money handling – whatever they call it. But… he’s been charged with kidnapping.” 

“Your teacher?” Ben bit his lip, concern edging him closer. “Is she alright?” 

“I think she’s okay, I haven’t seen her in several months. Since January.” Ben was about to comment on that, ask whether that had anything to do with the phone call from the police they received, but Hux continued before he could. “I… I had a different home before I lived with him.” 

“You?” Realising that Hux’s hand was fidgeting under his own, he prised apart the fist that Hux was making. He found traces of blood on his palm, under his nails. Sliding his hand between palm and fingers he squeezed his hand again. “He kidnapped his own son?” 

“He lived in England before he moved to New York. But before I arrived in New York with him, I lived in Ireland, with my mum.” Hux, having been staring at their hands pressed over his thigh, hazarded to look up. His voice had found itself, steady, but hitched when tears filled his eyes again. “He took me from her. I never thought I had a mom. And now – now I have to go back. Back to my _real home._ I had hoped that she lived somewhere here. I mean, my da- Brendol, and me, we lived here – British people in America.

“I wanted to believe she was here, somewhere. She’s not seen me in… sixteen years? She probably doesn’t want to see me. Why would she want to see someone she doesn’t know? Brendol had to have a reason to take me from her. Did she not want me? Hate me? Brendol – he acted like he never wanted me. You were the only person who ever wanted me around. You smiled at me. He never did that for me. That meant so much to me. It was everything. It stayed with me all this time. Ben, thank you for making me feel like I’m worth something. Thank you – to your dad, for acting more like a dad than some…. Fat-ass lying asshole. Who just happens to look like me, and never could treat me like I was worth something. Who kept me in a damn basement for over ten years-”

Ben was nearly shaking as much as Hux, feeling it when he put his arms back around him, pulling him against him. His dad’s hands were at his shoulders, one tentatively reaching for Hux’s arm flung around him. His mom was edging a box of tissue towards the end of the table closest to them, and the water bottle, now opened. 

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you.” Knowing that they were both a mess, distraught and teary, Ben didn’t care that he was wetting Hux’s hair with his own tears. “Your mom loves you, how could she not? She was with you from the start.” His words nearly choked him, not wanting to think of Hux going overseas, even if it was back to family. “You might even have… aunts and uncles waiting for you back home. And grandparents. You’re lucky, my grandparents passed away before I was five years old.”

“But I don’t know a thing about them, if they even exist.” They both sounded parched with each attempt at speaking at each other, ridiculous for how wet their faces were. 

“When will you be flying back?” Ben found a new chant in his head, a non-stop plea of _not now_ , trying not to make a complete vise of his arms. 

“Tomorrow, eight am.” 

Taking a deep breath, forcing himself to look up to the ceiling, blinking in attempt to stop the tears, he struggled to steady his voice. “That will give me plenty of time to reassure you that everything will be fine.”

In his mind he thought otherwise. It was far too soon. Better than leaving in an hour but that was less than ten hours away. 

“How are you even real?” A weak giggle sounded from his shoulder before Hux looked up, a small smile given to him. “You are too kind for a hopeless case like me. I don’t know what you saw in me all those years ago but I want to show you how much it means to me. I don’t want to let you disappear, or disappear from you, ever again.

“I will hold you to that!” Tone far more insistent than he intended, and almost recoiling for how loud it came out, he smiled when Hux laughed, nodding determinedly. “Phone me, write me – better, email me, I’ll be out of Michigan in a few months anyways. But we need to stay in touch since you’ll be across the ocean from me.” 

“I absolutely will.” Pulling away slowly, Ben putting his hands back down, he watched as Hux peeled hair off of his face, one finger crooked, held out of line from the rest. “Just… thank you. I feel, in some ways, I wouldn’t have stayed sane if it weren’t for thinking about you. You made me realise there was more than just a house and Brendol. I had to thank you, in that letter, but I realised that there was probably a lot more that I was missing out on. And thank you… Mr. Solo. I’m sorry you had to put up with my dad’s tricks. My… the woman who acted as my teacher, she was as much under my dad’s control as I was.”

“You’ve always been good kid. Can’t say the same for your dad but… he sounds like an absolute nutjob,” his dad said. 

“What time do you have to be at your gate?” Ben asked, settling to sit against the couch, both him and Hux finding it in themselves to relax. Looking around the room with a startled thought, finding no bags, he frowned. “Do you have anything with you to take on the flight? Any extra clothes?” 

“This is all I have.” Hux shrugged but didn’t look put out. “They’re paying for my ticket to Ireland.”

“That’s got to be a… six hour flight.” Ben glanced over at his mom, vaguely impressed that she had stayed quiet all this time. She gave him a pointed look, dry but amused, before glancing past him to Hux. “Have you had any dinner?”

“No, I flew in from… Washington, the west coast. My – Brendol and I, we were taken in. I was detained for a bit before I was taken to the airport, waited some more before we flew here,” Hux explained, beginning to fidget with his hands again. 

“You must be starving, we’ll get you some food – and pick you up a book or two,” his mom said, motioning for his dad to stand up with her. 

Hux twisted his head quickly. “I won’t be reading now.” 

Ben bit back a smile and curled his own hands together, fighting to not take hold of Hux’s hand. “They mean for the flight.”

“Oh.” Hux stopped, flushing. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Flights can be pretty boring, you might want a book,” his dad explained, both making their way to the door. 

“Thank you, very much,” he replied, cheeks still pink when they stepped into the hallway. A few seconds later after they were out of sight Hux shifted to face him. “Does this mean you’re staying for a while?” 

“My parents will have to drag me out of here if they think I’m leaving before morning,” Ben commented, resting his hand on Hux’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to be too nervous for tomorrow to sleep.” Hux’s eyes were alert despite being red-rimmed. “I don’t know what we’ll do until I have to leave.”

Ben tilted his head, resting it against the back of the couch, but still looking at Hux. “I imagine we have a lot to catch up on.”

“I’m afraid my side of the story will be boring.” Hux had been sitting straight, but perhaps realising there was no reason for it, moved to match Ben’s posture. “There’s not much to be said about living in a basement.” 

“How about I start, ask you a question – and then when you answer, you can ask me a question,” Ben suggested, shifting some more to sit comfortably, his knee brushing against Hux’s. “Then we keep going back and forth.”

“Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested you can follow me on [Tumblr](http://centurytwitch.tumblr.com/).


End file.
